


Que Sera, Sera

by Velace



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Dark!Emma, F/F, Mild Language, Non-Graphic Violence, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 78,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4988236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velace/pseuds/Velace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For months, Regina has tried to find a way to save Emma. Tasked with delivering yet another hope speech, as the Dark One refuses to listen to anyone else, she realizes she has none to give and Emma finally opens up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know. It came to me and I had to write it. I am my muse's bitch.

"Does that never grow old," Emma asks, shaking her head.

Regina stops abruptly, mouth closing mid-sentence. Honestly, she's lost count of how many times she's given Emma this speech and well—yes, it does grow old. It _has_ grown old. She's tired and on the verge of giving up because she doesn't know what else to do. They've been promising Emma for months now that they'll find a way to bring her back, to rid her of the Dark One and yet after all this time, they have nothing.

Merlin, Excalibur, True Love; nothing seems to work and whether it's because the Dark One is more powerful or Emma simply doesn't _want_ it to work, no one knows. Emma assures them that they're free to pursue whatever it is they think best, but she doesn't try to assist them and not for the first time, Regina wonders if it's because she _likes_ who she is, blood on her hands and all.

It would be hypocritical for her to judge Emma for it, but she still finds herself doing it. Emma is meant to be the Savior, someone who brings hope to the hopeless, someone children can look up to and one day aspire to be. This isn't her, and yet, it is. This Emma is free, powerful—dark but capable. She is still slow to trust and continues to love with all her heart once she does. She is patient, thoughtful and often kinder than anyone has any right to expect.

After everything she's been through, everything the people who claim to love her have put her through; Emma remains the same strong, confident woman she's always been. Regina has no idea how she does it, and she respects her more for it—more than she ever thought possible. Emma is someone that others can only hope to be, and yet there are some who wish to change her, to return her insecurities and doubts.

She doesn't know when she stopped being one of those people, but it is Emma's question that forces her to realize she has. It is old; trying to bring hope to someone who has given up, to be someone who wants to give up but who doesn't want to give up on _this_ particular person. She owes her life to Emma. Hell, she owes it at least three times by her count.

"Is contentment enough," she asks, wringing her hands nervously in her lap.

"Yes," Emma replies without hesitation. She stands and begins to pace. Back and forth, back and forth, her movement hypnotic in a way Regina remembers her days as the Evil Queen; seductive with absolutely no effort. The Emma Swan saunter, only magnified by a hundred.

"Happiness is overrated," Emma continues. She turns abruptly, almost appearing as though she's frozen in place except for the hand tapping against a thigh as her eyes bore into Regina. "I am filled to brimming with darkness. In the beginning, I never imagined being able to accept this but over time it has grown… quiet, peaceful even. For the first time in my life, I am _comfortable_ , Regina. Do you have any idea how much of a relief that is?"

Regina nods. She does know because she feels it too. It has taken her decades to learn what Emma has in only a few short months. Happiness—happy endings _are_ overrated. Without pain, without heartbreak and worry that what you have, you might one day lose—without these things, happiness is meaningless. How can a person appreciate that happiness if that's all they ever are?

"Do you want me to stop," she questions. She has to know, has to hear Emma say it before she'll even consider it. She doesn't want to give up on Emma, but she knows better than anyone that if someone doesn't want to be saved, trying is pointless.

"Do you want to stop," Emma counters as she moves to stand over her. Regina slumps, head shaking from side to side and Emma nods, dropping down on the cushion beside her. "What if I ask you to? Will that relieve your conscience?"

Regina chuckles softly. Her conscience. Yes, she supposes that is what stops her from conceding defeat. Time has lost all meaning in her search for a solution. Snow, Charming, Killian, Robin—dear, sweet Henry; they all talk as though Emma suffers from a disease that needs to be cured and, for a while, she had agreed with them.

She should have known better.

She _does_ know better.

Regardless of the events that led to Emma becoming the Dark One, she understands now that it was never a choice. Fate isn't something one can escape. Whether a different time, or a different land, Fate will always succeed and any attempt to change it will only alter the path that leads you to what is, and always was, meant to be.

"Yes," she admits with a sigh. No matter what promises she has made to anyone else, she cannot lie, not to Emma.

What hope she had in the beginning has become disappointment after disappointment and no matter how much time she spends listening to Snow, Charming and the rest of them, she knows that nothing short of a miracle will bring back the Savior that (almost) everyone wants.

"You know you're the only one who has a hope of fixing me."

Fixing. Regina sneers. The word reminds her of Killian. She had almost strung him up by his balls for the way he talked about Emma, about how she's broken and not the woman he fell in love with. She never thought he deserved Emma, and she'd vowed that if she found a way to save her, she would ensure he wasn't around to worm his way back in.

"You don't need _fixing_ ," she growls, facing Emma who stares at her with a blank look on her face. She knows what everyone thinks—what Emma has overheard. "You aren't broken," she continues, heart squeezing in her chest when she sees the doubt in those eyes. "Only you get to decide who you are, Emma, and if this is who you want to be, darkness and all, then I support you."

"Tell me the truth," Emma says and leans forward. Regina opens her mouth, but Emma shakes her head. "Not about that. That, I believe you and… and thank you, but not that."

Regina swallows the protest on the tip of her tongue and clears her throat. "Then what?"

"The Evil Queen," Emma begins, voice barely more than a whisper. She pauses, looking for something—pain, perhaps—before she moves on. "Is she still in there? Is she hiding? Buried deep down where no one but you can see?"

Averting her gaze, Regina considers lying. It's different when it's about her. She has nurtured a control within herself that the Queen would have mocked her for. In the Enchanted Forest, the power she held over people had, quite literally, driven her insane. It took years, but she's certain that if she hadn't cast the curse when she did, she wouldn't have lived for much longer.

In Storybrooke, everything is different. The Queen exists, but the madness that infected her mind during that time is gone. She would still relish a kill, but it wouldn't possess the same type of glee she'd felt back then. If she was ever permitted to return for more than a few minutes at a time, Snow would not escape her again.

"If you had asked me before Camelot, I would have told you she was gone." She forces herself to turn back, to look at Emma as she speaks. "Seeing you struggle with your demons while struggling with my own, I realized that she is still a part of me and sometimes… sometimes I feel myself slipping. Being her is so much easier than being… this."

Sitting back, Emma rests her arms across the back of the couch and tilts her head. She appears deep in thought and Regina waits, patient. They haven't talked like this in a long time, not since Emma returned their memories—not since Regina begged her for forgiveness, for almost costing Emma her life to save a man she'd only learned recently Emma despised.

She still isn't entirely certain of why that is, as Emma refuses to explain it to her, but in the grand scheme of things, she doesn't think it matters. Whatever reason Emma has for loathing Robin Hood, she'd thawed towards Regina when she sent him back to OZ with Zelena and their child, and for that she's grateful enough to not dwell on the questions she has too deeply.

"I can't help thinking this is who I'd be had my parents not tried to control who I was before I was born," Emma eventually says. "And I wonder if I should feel guilt for not wanting to give it up. I feel free for the first time in my life—whole, like something has been missing all this time."

"Something has," Regina agrees. She will always abhor what Snow and Charming did to their daughter. "Just as you wouldn't be you without your magic, you aren't you without the darkness they stole. Everything, everyone requires a balance and in the absence of that balance, nothing flourishes."

When Emma smiles, Regina is struck by how such a small act can light up someone's face. She feels a certain exhilaration at having been the cause of it, whether Emma is smiling in appreciation, or because she's mocking her inside her head. Emma has never been someone to smile naturally, and the fact she has succeeded where others have failed is no small feat that she is more than willing to be the butt of a silent joke, if that's what it takes.

"You truly would sacrifice the hope that everyone has for you to be my Savior if I asked," Emma says and her voice is filled with such awe that Regina decides the smile is definitely appreciation.

"I would," she confirms with a nod. "But you were right when you said that it would, in part, ease my conscience. I don't want to give up on you, Emma, but I can no longer pretend that it isn't exhausting."

"Now you know how I felt," Emma teases, her smile morphing into a grin. "Trying to live up to the expectations of others has a way of consuming you, and everyone wonders why I like being the Dark One. All they ask is that I don't kill them, and honestly; resisting that impulse is the easiest thing in the world."

"Admittedly," she adds after a moment. "I do enjoy letting them think it's a struggle. There is nothing quite so satisfying than watching someone try and resist wetting themselves while you hold them by the throat, ten feet from the ground."

"You do seem to like choking people," Regina muses, smirking. "Not that they haven't all deserved it."

Which is true. Most of the things that can be considered even remotely evil, Emma had done in the first few weeks of their return but afterwards, she began showing remarkable restraint for a Dark One. Regina knows for a fact that Rumple had wracked up quite a body count in the first week of his transformation compared to Emma's two, and in both instances, she was protecting someone else; first their son, and then Regina herself.

Cruella and Arthur both deserved to die, and Regina is done pretending either cases were wrong. Snow and Charming would be appalled by her current line of thought, she's certain.

"Regina?"

"Hmm," she hums distractedly.

"I sacrificed myself for your happiness."

Her head snaps back around and she stares at Emma, wondering where she's going with this. She knows why she did it, and she knows Emma would do it again but why—

"I like this version of me," Emma interrupts the thought. "I want you to stop looking. Focus on yourself, on our son. Find out what makes you happy, Regina, and know that it is because of you that I am."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno if it was just those two people who messaged me that wanted a conversation between Charming/Snow/Regina about Emma, but it came to me easier than most things and I decided to write it. There's a little Emma/Regina at the end for those more interested in that.

When Regina arrives at the apartment later that day, Snow and Charming are waiting for her as usual. She had left Emma over an hour ago and went down to the docks, hoping to have a moment of quiet in which she could go over what the two of them talked about before she faced the woman's parents to tell them the bad— _good_ —news. Their daughter has learned to accept herself, regardless of what it means for the rest of them.

"You may wish to remain seated," she warns the two when they attempt to stand. Charming and Snow return to their seats and she nods, pulling out a chair of her own at the table before she removes her scarf and sits. "I am not entirely certain how I should tell you this, or how either of you will react when I do."

"Just tell us, Regina," Snow says. The mood surrounding them is almost sad, foreboding, yet Snow wears a smile contrary to that and it honestly has Regina _aching_ with a desire to simply get up and leave again.

They should be the ones coming to _her_ , telling _her_ their daughter has decided she doesn't want to be saved and that she's free to stop searching. Apparently now that she isn't the one _causing_ the bad news, the world is intent on her being the one to deliver it. Karma, she thinks, is without a doubt; a bitch greater than she.

"How did your conversation with Emma go," Charming asks, less patient than either woman. Regina sighs.

"Whatever you think I'm about to tell you," she starts, and then sighs again. What is she supposed to say? _Emma asked me to give up on her and I agreed to respect her wishes because I'm just as tired as she is?_

Yes, she decides. Yes, that is exactly what she should say because… why not? It's the truth and whether they wish to believe it or not, it won't change a thing. She is out of ideas, ideas Emma doesn't even want her to pursue and it isn't as though either of them can _make_ her keep looking.

"Emma no longer wishes for me to find a way to save her," she says and rolls her eyes at Snow's gasp. It doesn't take a genius to know where the woman's mind is at. "She hasn't given in to the darkness, Snow. She accepts that it is a part of her now and she likes who she is."

"No," Charming declares as he stands. She watches him pace and can't help but be reminded of Emma as she smiles, which is exactly what Charming sees when he looks at her. "Do you think this is funny, Regina?"

Regina frowns, head shaking as she replies, "No, but I do think the decision is hers and there is little you can do about it." He opens his mouth, a look of anger flashing in his eyes, but when she chuckles, his expression becomes one of shock. "My mistake," she continues. "I misspoke. What I meant to say is, there is _nothing_ you can do about it because, Charming, while I appreciate the role you two have played in allowing me to redeem myself, I am the only one who has a chance at saving her and I don't know about you, but I am only too happy to do as she asks and accept her as she is."

"This isn't her," he protests, the anger reemerging tenfold. His fact contorts with it and he points a finger at her. "You promised," he spits. "You promised us you would do all that you could—"

"And I have," Regina interrupts, lifting her chin as her own anger comes out to play. "I have done what I can and as loath as I am to admit it, it wasn't enough but, please, allow me a question, Charming."

His jaw clenches but he nods and she smiles, sweet as she can. "You say this isn't her, yet you can't be certain of that, can you? You and your wife altered her before she was even born. Who are we—who are _you_ to decide who she is and who she could have been, had neither of you interfered?"

"We did what we thought—"

"Was best," she interjects, eyes rolling. "Yes, that seems to be the winning excuse, doesn't it? Have I ever told you how much the two of you remind me of my mother?"

Charming scowls. "We are nothing—"

"She often used that exact same excuse," she continues as though he hadn't spoken and his mouth snaps shut. "Always telling me she knew what was best, that everything she did was for me. She didn't want me to be a peasant, you see? To be looked down upon by the ruling class as nothing more than a cockroach beneath the soles of their boots. I loved and admired her as much as I despised her. Do you ever wonder how Emma feels? Perhaps she and I are more alike than I first thought."

Charming laughs and she knows, oh she knows exactly where his thoughts have taken him. His daughter is sweet, kind, beautiful and with a heart too pure to be anything like hers. He still thinks of Emma as good, far too good to be compared to an Evil Queen, certainly. She lets him have his moment, lets it subside and allows him to begin to speak before she cuts him off.

"No, I suppose we're not quite in the same league," she drawls, a smug smirk playing across her lips as he nods his agreement. "I mean she _is_ the Dark One, and I am only but a _former_ Evil Queen."

The implication is clear and his anger returns in full force but by now, she is done. Done dealing with the two idiots, done defending herself. She is tired, not only of their endless hope but of always feeling as though she isn't good enough despite how hard she tries. Emma is the only one who has ever believed in her, and while they live in fear of their daughter, she will do everything in her power to embrace the person Emma has become.

"Regina," Snow speaks as she stands, but she raises a hand and puts a stop to the flow of words. As annoying as she finds the two of them, she has learned that it is far too easy for them to convince her to do what they think is right and she won't allow it this time.

"That will wear off in a few minutes," she assures Snow, voice somewhat apologetic. She winds her scarf about her neck and turns to leave, pausing when she reaches the door with a glance over her shoulder. "You both have a decision to make and, for what my opinion is still worth, I urge you to consider what your daughter wants rather than what you _think_ she should want."

* * *

 

When Regina gets home, the last thing she expects is to see Emma again so soon, but when she rounds the corner of the foyer into the den, clapping greets her entrance and there Emma sits, grinning like someone who is _proud_ of something she did.

For some inexplicable reason her heart begins to race and her throat closes up as though she's about to cry. It truly baffles her, the way she feels, but she's cognitive of the thought that crosses her mind as it wonders if this is what true, genuine approval feels like.

"You spied on me," she accuses and her voice is laced with a husk that confirms that yes, she will cry if she doesn't get control of her emotions quickly.

Emma pouts. "Shall I come back later," she questions, informing Regina without words that she knows exactly what that husk means.

Regina shakes her head. "It will pass," she murmurs, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Why are you here?" She frowns as realization dawns and adds before Emma can respond, " _In_ my house, _without_ an invitation."

"I'm not a vampire, Regina," Emma smirks, rising with all the poise of the Princess she is rather than the clumsy, gangly-limbed Sheriff of old. "And I came to thank you because yes, I did spy on you. Also, I recall a story you once told me about a sister who appeared unwelcome in your home and thought I might replace that horrid memory for you."

She smiles, and again Regina is hit by how much it lights up her face as her heart races for another reason entirely that _this_ time, she understands. "How thoughtful of you," she says, crossing the room and dumping her purse on the table before she drops to the couch.

It is a wholly unrefined move that is far more reminiscent of Emma than anything the blonde has done lately, but she doesn't care. Today has been just as exhausting as every other day for the past few months.

"Drink," Emma offers and Regina accepts, not bothering to question where she'd gotten the alcohol from as she tips her head back and downs, what she knows now, is whiskey as she proceeds to cough her lung out.

"A little warning next time," she rasps, shooting Emma a glare when she chuckles.

"You're the one chugging drinks like you're at a frat party," Emma replies, refilling her glass with a flick of the wrist. "I am neither a vampire, nor can I read minds; how was I supposed to know your inner jock was coming out to play?"

"I've had a bad day," Regina grumbles, not wanting a repeat choking as she tentatively sips her drink.

"Hence the whiskey," Emma replies, unceremoniously falling to the cushion beside her.

 _There_ is the gangly-limbed Sheriff, Regina thinks with a smile. "Thank you," she replies, rolling her eyes when Emma feigns surprise and holds a hand to her chest. "Don't push it, Swan."

"Yes Ma'am."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out this isn't a drabble, and has therefore been removed from the Random Moments series. Because I definitely needed another multi-chapter fic to work on. Not.

Waking to the sound of her phone vibrating on the bedside table, Regina rolls over and flails for a few moments before she finds it. "What," she asks, uncaring if she sounds rude when the person on the other end had dared to call while she was busy sleeping.

"I caught my parents talking to Blue."

Blue is possibly the worst person to wake up to in the morning she thinks first and foremost before her brain registers the voice and her eyes snap open. "Emma?"

Why is the Dark One calling her at—dear gods, 8:40 on a Saturday morning? She inwardly groans. What is wrong with people?

"You sound surprised," Emma comments, voice low in a way that Regina knows means there is a flirty pout lingering on pink lips.

She scoffs. She is surprised considering the past couple of months in which Emma's conversations involve either her popping in out of thin air with no warning at all, or Regina going over and basically threatening to pound in her door if she doesn't damn well answer because it's _cold_ and she was always being coerced into talking to the maddening woman.

"Only that you didn't simply transport yourself to my bedroom for this conversation."

Emma chuckles. "Bit early in our relationship for that, Madam Mayor."

It's a tease and Regina knows if she responds in kind, Emma will only derail them further from the conversation. It has happened countless times before, and while neither of them speak of those moments, she remembers the confusing feelings that accompany them as she reminds herself it is too early to put herself through that chaos of thoughts and emotions again. "You said your parents were talking to Blue."

Emma hums an affirmative and Regina breathes a sigh of relief. There is always a 50/50 chance Emma won't let her be distracted from her flirting. "Does this mean I can expect not to have to talk to them again?"

"Pretty much," Emma confirms with a snort. "I can't be sure about Blue though. I think she might be planning to come over and talk to you, can't say for sure."

"I doubt it," Regina mutters under her breath.

Snow, Charming and their endless quest to find the light in everyone is irritating for all involved, but the fairy is even worse. She may arrive under the guise of wanting to talk, but she is relentless and far more likely to resort to less than savory means to get what she wants. Regina would almost admire her, if she weren't so disgusted by the façade the fairy wears to hide her true colours.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," she quickly replies and dismisses her thoughts. "Was that the only reason you called?"

"Well I was bored and it's always nice to have someone to talk to," Emma drawls sarcastically, though her voice softens when she admits, "I haven't had much of that lately."

Regina closes her eyes and counts to ten. It is far too early in the morning still for her to deal with the guilt of those words. The fact she doesn't think Emma means to make her feel that way helps, somewhat. "Why don't you come over for breakfast?"

"Wouldn't want to intrude."

"You already woke me up," she murmurs and then asks, "How much more intrusive can you be?"

Regina bites her lip, almost breathlessly waiting for an answer and sinking, relieved, into her mattress when Emma gives it. "Sure. How 'bout I come over in an hour? You know, give you time to shower and do whatever else you need to do to make yourself so… pretty."

"I'll have you know my _pretty_ is almost entirely natural, Miss Swan."

"Good to know," Emma laughs. "An hour though?"

"An hour," she repeats, mind already wandering to what she might cook the three of them for breakfast.

"See you then, my Queen."

Before Regina can respond, she hears the dial tone and pulls the phone from her ear to stare down at it. Since when did Emma start calling her _that_?

She raises her other hand to her lips, feeling the smile there, and shakes her head. "Since when do I like being _called_ that," she wonders aloud as she rises to begin her morning routine.

* * *

 

After breakfast, Henry leaves with Emma and Regina has the house to herself. She doesn't know if she can trust Emma to be alone with him, but she hopes the fact she's _trying_ to doesn't come back to bite her on the ass. She wants to believe that if she can be a mother to him, and love him deeply enough to share True Love as the Evil Queen, then Emma as the Dark One can too.

As she finishes up the dishes, she senses the presence of the fairy at the border to her property and disappears from the kitchen. She reappears in her bedroom and retrieves a small, rectangular box from her closet. If there is one person in the world she trusts less than Rumplestiltskin, or her own mother, it is Blue and it is for that reason she reaches into her chest.

Pulling her heart from its cradle, she releases an explosive breath and looks down, humming as she admires the bright red colour. She hasn't seen her heart since she'd given it to Robin for safekeeping (that had backfired spectacularly) but she can immediately see the differences; the lack of dark lines being the most obvious of them. She also realizes, as she places it gently into the box, that she is less disconnected from her emotions, and smiles.

The doorbell sounds as she casts an invisibility spell over the box and places it in her closet. She checks herself in the mirror on her vanity before she reappears in the foyer and opens the door, smile vanishing to be replaced by that of the Politician she wears so well.

"Blue," she says with a grimace. "To what do I owe your unwelcome presence on my doorstep?"

"Coy is not a good look on you, Regina," the fairy replies, voice syrupy sweet.

"Well if I have to guess," she drawls and feigns thought, crossing her arms and tapping a blood red nail against her chin. "Oh! You must be here to talk to me about our Lord and Savior. That is what nuns do, correct? What was the name again? Jesus, wasn't it?"

Blue scowls. "You know very well that I am here to speak to you about the Dark One."

"Ah." Regina nods, dropping the pretense as she informs, " _Her_ name I believe is Emma. Emma Swan, and if you wish to speak of her, then you would do well to remember that."

"You sound quite protective of her, Your Majesty," Blue notes. Regina raises a brow at the accusation clear in her tone. "For someone so invested in the Dark One being treated as a person, one might question why you would condemn her to a life of evil and misery."

Amused, Regina can't help but laugh. As conniving and manipulate as the fairy may be, she is even more transparent than Snow White. "I realize you're accustomed to being _Fate's Bitch_ , dear, but we humans have a thing we like to call free will that allows us to choose what we want."

When Blue merely continues to smile, she's overcome with an inexplicable urge to slam the door in her face but curiosity at what the fairy intends to do wins out. During her time as the Evil Queen, she'd employed many different techniques in order to control someone. Taking someone's heart was always easier and the least time consuming, which is why she'd removed hers beforehand, but there were stories of some rather underhanded methods involving fairy dust that she finds intriguing.

"You are many things, but I would never have mistaken you for a fool."

Regina tilts her head. Is that disappointment, she wonders. "If your plan is to bore me to death, congratulations," she says, stepping back as she clutches the door and readies herself to close it.

If Blue won't play her game, then she has better things to be doing with her time; imaging the fairy stumbling into the street and being hit by a car, for instance.

"She is luring you into a false sense of security, Regina," Blue states and Regina almost _cackles_ at her words.

Of all the asinine things she might expect, that had not been one of them. She opens her mouth to retort, but it isn't her voice that comes out of her throat. "Am I?"

Her eyes widen and panic sets in as her lips continue to move without her permission. "I thought I made myself clear this morning, moth. You are not to come near Regina, otherwise I will make good on my promise by tearing the wings from your back."

Blue presses a hand to her mouth and stares at Regina in horror, a horror she herself feels in that moment. Seconds pass before the fairy vanishes, an unspoken apology in her eyes as she leaves Regina behind and Regina stumbles back into the house, slamming the door and turning on her heel as she's beckoned upstairs by a whispered command.

When she enters her room, she freezes at the sight that is there to greet her. Emma sits on the end of her bed cradling her heart in the palm of her hands, eyes closed with a look of peacefulness on her face. "I saw you remove it," she says and her expression remains the same. "Henry was wandering around the store looking at comics, and I found myself curious. What does Regina Mills do when she's alone, I wondered."

Her eyes open then and Regina feels the anger emanating from them before Emma averts her gaze, looking down at the heart as anger turns to awe. "I wanted— _needed_ —to see it."

Regina is speechless, feeling too many things at once. Emma is no longer controlling her but she feels drawn to her—to the reverential way Emma holds her life in her hands. The last time another had a hand on her heart, she'd felt malice and a desire to crush it. All she feels now is warmth and a lingering echo of darkness, magic much like her own but stronger, calling to her, pleading for each step she takes closer.

"You used me." She forces the words out, confused by the emotions welling inside of her as she focuses on the only thing that makes sense; anger. "You had… you _have_ no right."

"I know."

"Give it back," she hisses, coming to stand before her.

Emma raises her head and as their eyes meet, Regina can see everything. There is a familiar longing within those dark emerald depths; to control, to take someone's power and keep it for your own. But there is also care—compassion, and buried underneath it all is a love too intense to be denied that has a gasp falling from her lips.

"No," she denies hotly, shaking her head. "You can't."

Forehead crinkling with a frown, Emma blinks up at her. "I can't what?"

"Love me," Regina barks, retreating until she reaches her vanity, hips connecting with wood as her hands crash down on its top and she stammers, "If you did, it would have… it should have worked."

The frown deepens and Emma stands, moving forward as she questions, "What are you talking about? What should have worked, Regina?"

"True love's kiss!"


	4. Chapter 4

"You," Emma breathes, shaking her head with a laugh. "That was real?"

"Real," Regina repeats, blinking, confused. "You thought it wasn't real?"

"Hallucination," Emma offers the explanation as her shoulders slump and her head drops, eyes glued to the heart still cupped within her hands. "Rumple kept coming to me as the Dark One. He sort of… I don't know. He tutored me-taught me to embrace the darkness, I guess. You came to me the same night I last saw him and I thought…"

Regina waits, unsure of what to say. Emma has never said anything about hallucinations before. Given how little she's spoken about herself since she became the Dark One, it shouldn't be a surprise and yet, it is.

If Emma has been hallucinating all this time, how much of what was real did she think she'd imagined? Rumple has been in a coma since Emma's name appeared on the dagger, so Regina knows he wasn't real but the rest? The kiss, the conversations she was always hesitant to have but which made her feel lighter—happier by their end? Could it be because she didn't think it real that the kiss didn't work, rather than what Regina had immediately assumed? _Does_ Emma love her as much as she loves Emma?

She has so many questions, and very little in the way of answers.

"I didn't know," Emma whispers and Regina shivers as she watches the thumb that caresses her heart with a gentle reverence. "I knew the moment I held that dagger up to the darkness that I'd lied to him."

Regina continues to stare. She wants Emma to keep talking, to ask who the _him_ is in that sentence but the words won't come. When she feels those eyes on her once more, she looks up and Emma smiles as an understanding passes between them.

"I lied to Killian," she clarifies as she inches closer. "The second our eyes met, I finally understood all these feelings I've had since the day we met. Maybe it was the darkness opening my eyes, or maybe it was hearing you yell at me to find another way…"

Standing mere inches apart, Emma huffs but her smile widens and she shakes her head. "Whatever it was, I realized you are the one I've been in love with for all this time."

A sob startles them both and Regina turns her head, knowing the sound had come from her as her eyes sting in warning. It shouldn't be possible but with Emma holding her heart, it's as though her emotions are amplified and she can't stop the tears from falling. She closes her eyes and doesn't try to stop it when Emma slips a hand into the crook of her neck, stroking her jaw as she returns the heart to where it belongs.

Regina buries her head against a shoulder and welcomes the comfort of those arms as Emma removes her hand and pulls her into an embrace she'd long since given up hope of ever receiving. Her own find their way around a waist, hands fisting the soft cotton of Emma's shirt that grows wetter by the second as she accepts the emotions flooding her chest.

Emma murmurs words, words she can't quite make out but which sound soothing nonetheless. Her mind is stuck on three words, drowning out everything else. _Emma loves me_ , repeats itself back to her again and again, and again as the tears continue to fall.

With a ragged breath, she somehow finds strength enough to lift her head and almost breaks down when Emma offers a tentative smile. Even amidst all that darkness, Emma remains the kind-hearted, beautiful soul Regina had fallen in love with. "Why didn't it work," she rasps, voice cracking as another sob threatens to pull free.

Emma raises a hand and tries to stop the flow of tears, wiping them away with the pad of her thumb as soon as they appear. "I don't know," she replies softly, eyes darting to and fro as though committing the moment to memory. "Maybe because it's magic and I didn't believe…"

Regina swallows and urges her to continue with a nod. "You have to believe in it right," Emma questions, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Maybe it's because I thought you were a hallucination, or maybe it's because I don't believe in true love."

"You don't?"

Emma shrugs, expression sheepish as she says, "I don't need some flashy show of light to know that I love you, Regina."

"But how can you not believe? You broke the first curse with our son, Emma." Regina shakes her head and pulls from the embrace, eyes wide as she stares at her in disbelief. "You _watched_ me break the second with him too."

"Then maybe we only get one." Emma sighs and questions, "Does it matter? I mean, in the grand scheme of things, does our love mean less because we can't break curses with it?"

Regina frowns. "Of course not," she snaps, suddenly on the defensive. She would never think that. She hasn't loved many in her time, but those she had loved, she loved with all she had. Even a mother who deserved the very least of her, she'd given all she could and yet, were her mother still alive, she doubts they would have broken any curses together—good enough, or otherwise.

When she meets Emma's gaze again and sees the reservation within, it occurs to her that Emma has spent all this time reassuring her and she still hasn't returned the sentiment. "Oh Emma," she breathes in realization, erasing the space she'd put between them as she cups her cheek. "True love or not, ours will be the greatest love story ever told."

Another gorgeous smile breaks out across her face and Regina chuckles, sniffing, when Emma says, "The Fallen Queen and her Dark Savior."

"I prefer the Dark Savior and her Fallen Queen," she retorts, ignoring the telling quiver of her chin and chancing a smile of her own.

Emma's smile becomes smug and she trails the tip of a finger along Regina's cheek as she leans in with a purr of, "Whatever you say, my Queen."

Before Regina can close the remaining distance and kiss the look from her face, the doorbell chimes for the second time that afternoon and she groans, cursing whoever is responsible as Emma vanishes in a puff of black smoke.

* * *

 

Makeup no longer smudged and hair perfectly coiffed, Regina appears in the foyer fives minutes later to find that all hell has broken loose in her absence. Emma stands beneath the frame of the door, hand outstretched, and over her shoulder Regina can see the faces of Snow and Charming as the fairy hovers beside them, clawing at her throat.

"Miss Swan," she demands, trying not to sound as flustered as she feels. "What is the meaning of this?"

Emma chuckles and Regina knows by the gleeful sound that it isn't Emma they're dealing with now. She tries not to panic and takes a step closer. "Emma," she cautions. "You don't want to do this."

"Don't I," comes the haunting trill of a voice two octaves too high. Emma reveals the hand not holding the fairy and sitting in her palm is a familiar, light blue ball of magic. "Do you know what they were going to do to me, Regina? They were going to freeze me and then take me down into the mines, leaving me to rot there while they wasted their time trying to _cure_ me."

Regina feels her outrage build swiftly and she turns to the blonde's parents with a snarl. "What the hell were you two thinking?"

"We were trying to protect _you_ ," Snow cries as Charming pulls her against him. "Blue said she had control of your heart and we thought—"

"Nothing," the Dark One interrupts with another chuckle. "That has always been your problem," she spits in disgust. "Snow White and Prince Charming, entirely incapable of a sensible thought. You hear something and rather than wonder why I might have her heart, you come up with some half-cocked plan and rush over to try and be heroes."

Emma snuffs the immobilization spell from being as she makes a fist, fingers springing open in time with her other hand as Blue drops to the ground. "I don't know whether to be amused or hurt by the fact my own parents trust that _thing_ more than they trust me."

"Regina," she says, spinning on her heel and putting her back to the three of them. "Tell them what I did with your heart."

Rolling her eyes, Regina glances over her shoulder to Emma's parents and tells them, "She put it back."

They share a look before David says, "Blue said she was controlling you."

Emma scoffs and when she speaks, she stares at Regina as if the words are for her ears only. "Should I have come down stairs and risked what she was trying to prevent?" She turns then and Regina catches the scowl that flashes across her face before she is once more staring at the back of Emma's head.

"Should I have let her stand there and shame Regina for a choice that _I_ made? Pretend that all her hard work means nothing merely because I begged her to let me remain the way that I am?" Her voice rises with her words and Regina can feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as Emma's anger boils to the surface. "You sent your lapdog to stick her nose in where it doesn't belong and you dare think to punish _me_ for what _I_ did?"

Her head snaps down when Blue attempts to stand and the fairy crumbles back to the ground, gasping for breath as an invisible weight crashes down on top of her. "Perhaps it's about time someone told you the truth about your _fairy godmother_ ," Emma growls. "What do you say, Blue? Should I tell them about all the deals you've made with the Dark One's over the years?"

When Blue tries to respond, Emma swipes a hand through the air and all that's left of the fairy's voice is a wordless croak. "Maybe they would like to know just how crucial your involvement was in creating the monster everyone calls the Evil Queen. Did you suffer, Blue? Do you even have a heart to shatter when you ignored the pleas of an innocent child as she was abused over and over and—"

Regina closes her eyes and her throat tightens at the memories that spill into her mind. "Emma," she whispers, a quiet plea to stop before she's forced to relive a childhood she has tried for too long to forget.

There is a pause and she thinks she can feel the apologetic gaze of the Dark One upon her before it's gone again and the chilling voice returns. "Perhaps I should tell them you convinced them to send me to a world I suffered twenty eight years in because you needed the curse cast in order to escape your spoiled, needy little charge of a Princess."

Regina and Snow both gasp at that, chestnut eyes flying open to stare down at the fairy at their feet. Emma chuckles again at their reactions and moves back, giving Regina full view of the glare the fairy levels at the Dark One as Emma leans against the wall with a smirk.

"All these memories," she drawls, tapping the side of her head with a laugh. "You and Rumple, who would have guessed?"

"Emma, what are you—"

Emma holds up a hand and Snow falls silent. "I guarantee you, mother, the thought that went through your head just now is the very first to ever cross your mind that makes sense to anyone other than you," she states and sniggers at the combination of offense and dismay on the former Queen's face.

Pushing from the wall and humming a little tune, Emma smiles widely as she saunters over to stand beside Regina. Regina stiffens as an arm slides around her waist, but allows herself to relax when Emma's attention returns to her parents.

"After the curse was cast and your beloved fairy realized she was still bound to you and the rest of us charming individuals, she knew there was only one way to rid herself of you without setting the entire town against her. Isn't that right, Blue?"

Emma flicks her wrist, giving the fairy back her voice. "She lies," are the first words out of Blue's mouth and Emma throws her head back with a spine-tingling laugh.

"Why," she asks, grinning. "Why would I lie? What could I possibly gain from telling them this? They sent you here to try and convince their replacement Savior to save me, and your only intent was to bring back the Evil Queen in the hope she would finally get her revenge on Snow White, ridding you of a woman you think of as nothing more than a vexation."

She sighs wistfully and adds, "If anything, I should be helping you." Regina casts her a wary glance from the corner of her eye and Emma winks. "Alas, as intrigued as I am by the thought of meeting her bad self again, I will do what must be done to protect the ones I love—intellectually challenged as some of them may be."

"Emma," David starts and she looks to him with a smile, more her old self than Regina has seen since she came downstairs.

"Mother. Father. Do what you want with the fairy, but leave Regina alone," she says and throws up the arm not curled around Regina's waist, slamming the door on their protests.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brain is a little... out of it, thanks to the probable overdose of painkillers I took for the wonderful migraine I had all day. If there are any mistakes, I'll try and correct them later.

Hands clasped over her stomach, Regina stares up at the ceiling of the den as she listens to the sounds emanating from the kitchen. Emma disappeared almost as soon as she'd rudely dismissed her parents (a fact Regina still smiles about more than two hours later), and returned almost ten minutes ago with their son in tow, declaring there would be a family night involving the three of them, dinner courtesy of the Dark One and a movie.

As much as she wants to talk and as much as she knows she and Emma need to talk, she'd been hard pressed to deny Emma let alone the pleading gaze of their son combined with the pout she now knows is not at all surprisingly similar to his mother's.

They had insisted she relax, going so far as Henry suggesting she lie down on the couch (which she did, of course, because it was him) while Emma retrieved for her the glass of wine that sits beside her on the table. It has been quite some time since someone last pampered her, and she finds she is not at all adverse to it. Not from Henry, and certainly not from Emma.

She grins, giving a little shake of her head as their son's bark of laughter drifts in from the kitchen. It seems as if her trust in Emma hasn't been misplaced after all.

Although she had left him to wander around the comic book store by himself, when Emma and Henry returned, they were as thick as thieves still. Emma claims his little girlfriend from Camelot, Violet if she recalls the girl's name correctly, had kept him company, all the while Henry had blushed as he pleaded with her to stop embarrassing him.

Their son is growing up too quickly, she muses quietly to herself. She knows it's unrealistic to expect him to remain her little Prince forever, but the thought causes a dull ache to bloom in her chest. Soon he'll be talking about colleges and learning to drive—or rather, learning to drive the _right way_ , she corrects the thought, scowling when she remembers Charming's abominable attempt to teach her son such an important lesson.

With a sigh, she turns on her side and reaches for her wine, carefully sipping from the glass as she dismisses her thoughts. If she keeps it up, she'll likely end the night passing out in a drunken stupor, and that simply won't do. She needs to be alert—focused and not at all inebriated if she expects to convince Emma to stay passed Henry's bed time.

"Ma decided we're having burgers," Henry states as he wanders into the den.

Regina rolls her eyes and pushes herself up, leaning back against the arm of the couch. "Of course she did," she drawls, tucking her legs underneath her as she pats the cushion beside her. The second Emma had declared she would be the one to cook, Regina had known not to expect they would be eating anything even remotely healthy.

Henry plops down on the couch and rests his elbow on her knee, propping his head up with chin in hand. "Hi Mom," he says, cheeks dimpled with a grin.

She laughs softly and runs her fingers through his hair. Her son; growing goofier by the day. "Hello son," she replies, flashing a smile she reserves solely for him and, perhaps one day, his other mother. "Did you have fun with Emma?"

He shrugs and as his grin falters, she taps him on the head, coaxing it back. "It's kind of weird," he confesses, lowering his gaze to stare at his lap.

"Why is it weird," she prompts, lifting his chin with a finger.

She knows it can't be easy on him; first he has a mother everyone knows only as the Evil Queen, and now his other mother is the Dark One. No matter how strong he wants to appear for everyone, she knows it has to be taking its toll on him.

"You can talk to me," she adds after another moment of silence.

"Everyone is scared of her," he sighs. She watches him pull away and tries not to take it personally, knowing that he sometimes needs space to sort through his thoughts. "Kids at school keep talking about how she isn't the Savior anymore because she's evil."

"Does she seem evil to you," she asks and when he quickly shakes his head, she smiles in response. "I think you should ignore what other people say and trust your instincts."

He considers her words and then nods. "What about you?"

Taking another sip of wine and buying herself some time, Regina tilts her head as she mulls over the question. Emma, she knows, doesn't believe in the concepts of good and evil. She would tell him there's no such thing and that people are simply people; a mixture of good and bad, capable of falling on either side of morality dependent entirely on the situation at hand rather than a permanently established basis.

As she ponders this line of thought, she realizes that she prefers Emma's point of view to that of the Enchanted Forest and states as much. "I think Emma is trying to find where she fits in the world," she explains, twisting the stem of her wine glass between fingers as she ponders her words. "And I believe that it is our job to provide her the support and love she needs in order for her to feel safe, to feel as though she is a person and not some entity created by—"

Noting his curious but patient stare and conscious of the fact she'd started to ramble, she closes her mouth and raises an eyebrow.

"You said love," he whispers and begins chewing nervously on his lower lip. She allows her smile to blossom fully once more as understanding dawns and, after a minute of confused surprise, he mirrors the expression. "You love ma?"

"Who doesn't?" Emma interrupts the moment as she enters the room, and Regina groans. "What? I slave away over a hot stove and this is the thanks I get?"

"Your timing is appalling," Regina comments at the same moment her stomach grumbles, reminding her she'd skipped lunch. She blushes, seeing the identical grins of mother and son, and pretends it didn't happen as she continues, "And you invited yourself for dinner, so really you should be the one to cook."

"Should. Could. Did," Emma says and drops down beside Henry, their plates levitating in front of their faces. "What are we watching, ladies?"

Henry scowls but snatches his plate from the air and digs in to his burger with an almost feral savagery that Regina would find inexcusable under most circumstances. As it is, her own mouth waters at the scent that fills her nostrils and she instead chuckles, taking her own plate and lowering it down to her lap as she replies, "Interlopers choice."

Emma chooses Guardians of the Galaxy at first because it's Henry's favourite, and then halfway through decides she's bored. She forces them to watch Snow White and the Huntsman instead, declaring the Evil Queen's hotness worth the lackluster storyline Henry claims it is. He groans at that and Regina shoots a deadpan look over his head, agreeing with their son and letting Emma know she wasn't at all subtle in her attempt at flattery.

Emma shrugs and Regina tries not to be amused, failing as she watches the two of them begin nudging one another back and forth from the corner of her eye. Of all the changes Emma has gone through, her tendency to behave like an overgrown child isn't one of them. Her playful side is even more pronounced than usual and, despite her better judgment, Regina feels herself drawn to the juvenile behavior much like a moth to a flame.

"Watch the movie, children," she mock chides, forcing her attention toward the screen.

Minutes pass in which they settle down before she feels that piercing gaze on her and turns. Emma blows her a kiss and she quickly turns back, cheeks blossoming with heat as the sound of a slap to Emma's thigh (courtesy of their son catching the moment) is joined by a deep, husky laugh that reverberates around the room before coming to an uncomfortable rest between her legs.

* * *

 

"So that was fun," Emma comments as the credits roll, stretching arms and legs before she essentially decides to become one with the couch and falls limp.

"I'm going to bed," Henry declares and Regina narrows her eyes. Usually he begs to stay up until at least ten, which means she's immediately suspicious as he ignores the look and kisses her cheek.

Emma glances over at the clock, her own suspicion evident when she turns back to him and says, "It's barely nine o'clock, you loser."

Henry shrugs and kisses her cheek too before he stands. "Someone has to read all those comics you bought."

"You're an even worse liar than your mother," Emma smirks and dodges another slap, this time from Regina. "Are you afraid we're going to lose control of ourselves and start making out in front of you?"

Henry covers his ears, nonsensical noises falling from his mouth as he walks out of the den and Regina laughs, powerless to stop it when Emma launches herself from the couch and follows him, her continued teasing growing more and more faint until the sound of the two of them running up the stairs echoes through the house.

She sighs, shaking her head as she stands and gathers their dishes from dinner. She shuts down the TV and DVD player with a wave of her hand before making her way to the kitchen where she leans against the counter and tries not to think about _making out_ with Emma while the sink fills.

She fails, of course.

With the memory of those lips fresh in her mind, it is literally impossible not to think about kissing Emma. It has been months since she tried to break the Dark One's curse but while Emma thought it a hallucination, it has been both real and painfully unforgettable for Regina.

She remembers what it was like to be in Emma's arms. Hallucination or otherwise, Emma had still responded to the kiss in the way she'd hoped; love, lust, longing—all there in abundance. Imagine her disappointment, then, when she drew back to find the Dark One still very much present and sporting what could only be described as a predatory grin.

That wasn't Emma. At least, not her version of Emma and with that realization, she had flown from the house, feeling foolish for thinking her love would be enough to banish the darkness.

If Emma truly does love her, then it should have been enough. Is this Fate's way of letting her know that, once again, she doesn't deserve to be happy, she wonders, or was Emma right? Is True Love like Neverland in that it needs belief to exist?

"I don't think there's enough room in here for a swimming pool." Regina jerks at the voice before noticing the water overflowing the sink, and swears.

Emma chuckles as she circles the counter with a lazy flick of the wrist, cleaning up the mess before she rounds on her. She traps Regina between herself and the counter, hands on either side of her body. "I have a bit of a dilemma," she drawls, head tilted to the side.

Mustering a confidence she doesn't quite feel, Regina raises an eyebrow and questions, "Oh?"

"We need to talk," Emma says, biceps flexing beneath a black, cotton shirt as she leans in. "But I'm having a little trouble trying to convince myself that talking is more important than… other… more enjoyable activities."

Regina shivers at their proximity and feels her heart flutter at the thought of having Emma the way she wants after so long. "And what makes you think I'm... interested in these other activities?"

A smirk plays across pink lips and Emma says, "Your reaction just now, for one," before she pushes herself up, straightening her spine and folding her arms. She looks thoroughly unimpressed, and Regina has to admit to herself at least that it hadn't been one of her best attempts to stop them from delving into a place she so desperately wants to explore.

"As you said," she says, clearing her throat of the clear husk before she continues. "We need to talk."

"Fine," Emma sighs and Regina laughs at her expression which clearly states that it is anything _but_ fine, the pout she wears a brief reminder of the woman she used to be.

Regina cups her cheek before she even knows what it is she intends to do and Emma's face softens, the creases in her forehead vanishing as her mouth quirks upwards with the beginnings of a smile. Regina chuckles and leans in, brushing their lips together in a ghost of a kiss that promises more to come.

"We can _make out_ later," she murmurs quietly, breath hitching as hands grab her by the hips and pull her close. "Emma…"

"Just one," Emma whispers, tone pleading.

Regina feels her resolve begin to crumble down all around her and swallows, searching those emerald depths for a sign of that darkness, something to tell her that tone is nothing more than a trick for Emma to get what she wants. It is mere seconds before she finds something else and is once again hit by the love radiating from those eyes. If not for Emma's grip on her, she is certain the weakening of her knees would have sent her to the floor and her body trembles as Emma presses into her.

Closing her eyes, Regina crashes their mouths together, moaning as fingers dig into her hips. She clasps the back of Emma's neck, the thumb of the hand still on her cheek trailing along the length of a jaw as the kiss deepens and Regina becomes lost within the sensations filling her chest.

Kissing Emma is like an out of body experience; she can hear, feel, taste and _see_ the moment as it happens. If she concentrates, she can smell the heady aroma of leather from the coat Emma discarded earlier and the faint traces of vanilla scented soap on her skin. She wants to touch every inch of that skin, to replace the scent with her own as she plays out every fantasy in her arsenal and has shown Emma precisely how much her love is returned.

It is the thought of Emma naked and spread beneath her, writhing as she calls her name to the high heavens that has Regina pulling back, breathless and delirious from the overwhelming pleasure of knowing Emma wants her enough for that to one day be a possibility. She smiles at seeing the pout return, a lower pink lip jutting out as she forces the hands from her hips and steps out from between Emma and the counter.

"Come along, Miss Swan," she says with a chuckle, putting a little extra sway in her hips as she exits the kitchen.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right. So. I didn't realize people would actually want to read that talk, hence why I ended the last chapter where I did. I never intended to write it, and though I most likely would have tossed my intentions aside to give you guys what you want... Well, truth be told, I didn't see much point this time. I mean, really, I'm tired of reading the same conversations over again with the two of them hashing out their relationship and what they're going to tell everyone... so I'm just as tired of writing it. 
> 
> Sorry, but on the bright side (I hope?) I'm going to be providing little glimpses into Dark!Emma and the way she thinks etc for the rest of the fic, so maybe that makes up for it? If not, dunno what to tell you really.

Up since five waiting for the town to awaken, Emma waltzes into the pawnshop at exactly nine am. The bell above the door chimes and Belle looks up from where she stands behind the counter, pouring through yet another of Emma's predecessor's books, no doubt looking for something to help the town cure her of her supposed _disease_.

No matter. Emma dismisses the urge to explode the book into millions of tiny little pieces and offers the redhead a smile. "Belle," she says. She promised Regina she would be polite— _"Show her a little of that charming DNA of yours,"_ Regina had said and despite her grimace, Emma had agreed.

"Emma." Belle mirrors her smile and closes the book, providing her undivided attention as Emma prowls closer. "How can I help you?"

Emma gets straight to the point, eager for answers—or rather, eager to see Regina again and satisfy her curiosity so they can move on to more important things. "The shawl Rumple used to cross the town line," she replies. "I'm going to need to borrow it."

"May I ask why," Belle questions, voice muffled as she ducks down behind the counter. She reappears a moment later, shawl in hand and passes it over.

"Testing a theory," Emma answers and drapes the shawl over her shoulder. "I'll return it when I'm done…" She pauses and tilts her head, smile widening as she adds, "Unless it works, of course."

Lips parting to question her further, Emma wiggles her fingers in farewell and disappears, reappearing moments later outside the hospital room where Rumple lies in an eternal coma. She sighs, looking in at the former imp. She really would prefer not to wake him. Her memories of the man he used to be aren't at all flattering.

"Oh well," she drawls and shoves open the doors, startling the nurse who turns, mouth open before she drops the chart in her hands and scurries from the room.

Emma smirks and steps aside, letting her pass without interference. Try as she might not to give them reason, there are still people who insist on fearing her and though it annoyed her first, she's starting to accept that some things will never change. Instead of trying to change them—to convince them she isn't the big bad boogey monster Rumple had made the Dark One out to be, she embraces their fear, accepting it for what it is; power.

"Rumple, rumple, rumple," she tsks, coming to stand beside his bed and staring down at him. The darkness rouses within her, mocking him and the man that he'll become, tempting her with its suggestions for what to do with him once she's done. "Belle is in for one hell of a surprise."

Sliding the shawl from over her shoulder, she arranges it across his chest and closes her eyes as she begins silently reciting the spell the darkness whispers to her. Her lips quirk at the distant sound of monitors blaring and in less than seconds, people rush into the room, a familiar voice shouting orders while other looks on; in fear, in shock. She can't see them, but she can feel them and just as sudden as the sounds began, they stop.

Her eyes snap open and a deafening silence descends on the room as her gaze falls first on Doctor Whale, and then on the stirring figure of the former Dark One. His eyelids flutter repeatedly as consciousness returns to him before they eventually open, blinking up at her as though an angel had come to save him.

She smirks at the thought, barely resisting the desire to laugh at him.

He blinks again and recognition fills his eyes as he sits up quickly in an attempt to get away from her. "Now now," she chides with a wagging finger. "Is that any way to treat your Savior?"

"Savior," he croaks out a laugh. "You're the Dark One."

"As were you," she counters, irritated as she crosses her arms. "Yet, did I ever scurry away from you with my tail between my legs? No, I did not, and I'd thank you not to do the same."

"She did wake you," Whale chimes in, successfully breaking their stare down as their attention snapsto him. He swallows and avoids Emma's look as he steps closer and explains, "You've been in a coma for months. I don't know what she did, but you're awake now and I'd like to take a look at you."

Emma rolls her eyes, impatient. Should have looked the doors, she muses. "That can wait."

"I really don't think—"

"And I really don't care," she interrupts, dismissing Whale with a wave of her hand as she sends him to the other end of the hospital in a cloud of smoke. She turns to face the others and sniggers to herself when they leave without prompting before spinning back to Rumple. "I love it when they do that."

"I admit," he confesses, sounding somewhat surprised. "I'm impressed with your show of restraint."

"In all fairness, I'm not on some quest to find my long lost son; slaughtering someone for wasting my time isn't really my thing," she drawls as she beckons the chair from across the room and takes a seat. "I have questions that I'm hoping you can answer."

"And if I can't?"

"Who knows," she replies, spreading her hands dramatically with a shrug. "Maybe I'll leave without a fuss, or maybe I'll send your soul back to purgatory where we both know it belongs."

He stares at her, dread rolling off of him in waves, and she smiles sweetly as she says, "Shall we begin?"

* * *

 

Regina starts as her intercom beeps and she closes her eyes, taking a few breaths to calm her racing heart before she reaches across the desk to answer it. "Yes?"

"Mayor Mills, Snow White is here to see you," comes the monotonous whine of her receptionist.

Regina releases the button with a groan, praying for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. When it doesn't, she silently curses to whoever happens to be listening to her thoughts and replies, "I suppose you should send her in."

Her door opens in the seconds that follow and in walks Snow White, her expression seeming in conflict as it struggles between a look of utter defeat and the more familiar look of blinding optimism in the form of a tediously bright smile. Regina rolls her eyes and gestures to the chair in front of her, eager to get what is already a trying experience, over with.

"I came to apologize," Snow says as she sits and Regina lifts an eyebrow, only mildly surprised. The woman is, after all, as predictable as she is bothersome and self-righteous.

"Aside from the general nuisance known as your very existence, I don't believe I'm owed an apology today."

Snow sighs, slumping in her seat. "I was referring to what happened with Emma," she says, defeat appearing to have won out as her smile disappears. Regina would almost laugh if not for the fact she thinks Snow might burst into tears as soon as the sound leaves her mouth.

Sometimes she wonders if redemption is even worth the hassle. "Again, I'm not the one you owe an apology."

"You know she won't speak to us and—"

"And," she drawls the interruption. "Whose fault is that exactly? Perhaps if you listened for once and stop trying to control her, she might be more inclined to converse with you."

"Regina," Snow sighs again and this time, Regina does laugh.

The woman is impossible. Why is it that when she makes a mistake, she has to accept responsibility and atone, but when Snow White makes a mistake, she expects someone else to clean up the mess?

"I am done acting as your go between, Snow. If you want to apologize to Emma for what you've done, then I insist you go to her home and do so."

"That won't be necessary."

Regina's head snaps to the side at the sudden voice emanating from her mirror and she scowls as Emma fades in and out of view. "Don't you ever knock?"

She sees Emma's grin before her face vanishes and a thick plume of smoke appears beside Snow. "I recall a conversation we had in which you stated a preference for this method," Emma declares as she steps out from within

With a snort, Regina corrects, "I expressed surprise you decided to call, rather than randomly appear to have a conversation. I would hardly call that a statement of preference."

"Potato, banana." Emma waves a hand dismissively before she turns her attention to Snow and says, "Mother, what a pleasant surprise," sounding as though it is anything _but_ pleasant.

"Emma," Snow replies, unease creeping into her voice as she shifts in her seat to look up at the blonde.

Regina curses the foolish woman inside her head. She wants to shout at her, to scream at her that _this_ is the exact reason Emma refuses to speak to her. If she bothered to treat Emma like a person—like her _daughter_ and not whatever embodiment of evil she conjures in her thick skull, Emma might actually consider giving her the time of day. She refuses though. Refuses to open her mouth and provide Snow the key needed to earn Emma's forgiveness. If she was able to figure it out, then Snow damn well can too.

Forcing the thoughts away and bringing a hand up to her face to rub at the bridge of her nose, she hears Emma question, "Regina mentioned an apology? Would you like to get that out of the way so we can be left alone to talk?"

She watches the hope flicker across Snow's face and shakes her head, knowing Snow has mistaken Emma's disinterested tone for something else. "I am sorry—"

"Wonderful." Emma claps her hands and the chair where Snow was seated is suddenly empty as she looks to Regina. "Now, about that kiss."

Regina sighs, though it sounds more like a huff, annoyed with herself for needing to ask even as she tries to tell herself she doesn't care. "What did you do with your mother?"

"Hmm?" Emma hums and Regina finds herself torn between wanting to know how the hell Emma is now on the other side of the room, and keeping them on track.

"Your mother," she groans, the ache behind her eye growing more intense with every passing second. "Where is she?"

"Oh." Emma shrugs before she disappears from view, apparently having decided to lay down on the couch for their conversation. "I sent her back to the apartment," she says before her head pops into view again, eyes narrowed. "Why? What'd you think I did with her?"

"I didn't think," Regina says truthfully, rising from her seat and stepping out from behind her desk. "Which is why I asked."

Emma appears to study her a moment, likely trying to catch her out in a lie but when Regina simply returns her stare for a full minute, she grins, satisfied by whatever it is she's found. "Refreshing," she comments and drops back down. "Anyway," she continues. "Rumple had a theory about that kiss."

"You managed to wake him then," Regina questions, rounding the couch and pushing Emma's boots off the arm as she passes

"Of course."

Regina smiles. Drawn to the many facets of Emma's personality, there is nothing she finds quite as appealing as the woman's cockiness. "Of course," she repeats. "Care to share the theory?"

"I dunno," Emma drawls, head lolling to the side as she follows her progress over to the mantel. "Are you sure you don't want to call Snow and make sure I didn't accidentally magic her into the stove first? I can wait."

"I'm certain that won't be necessary…" Regina pauses and glances over her shoulder, smirking. "Will it?"

"For someone who claims to trust me, you're kinda bad at it."

"I said I trust you with our son," Regina says, amusement lacing her tone. "I made no such claims for anyone else."

"Ouch." Emma feigns hurt and pouts before she sobers. "She's fine… Maybe." She lifts a hand and rocks it from side to side, smirking when she says, "She might be experiencing a little headache."

Regina purses her lips, stifling a laugh. There is that Emma Swan immaturity again. She supposes it could be worse. Emma is the Dark One with immense power at her finger tips. A headache seems a small price to pay considering the (so far) awful attempt at parenting from Snow.

Pouring them each a glass of cider, she returns to the couch and waits for Emma to make room before handing her one and taking a seat. "So what did Rumple have to say?"

"Well," Emma starts with a smirk. "After he tried to run away from me, he told me a story about when Belle tried to kiss away the Dark One. A long, sickening story short; he says it is possible to break the curse with true love's kiss…"

Regina inhales as the words send a pang straight to her heart and Emma turns sharply, a frown adorning her features. "Unless," she continues, reaching for her hand and entwining their fingers. "The person whose name is on the dagger values the power of the darkness over the one they love—"

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?"

"May I finish," Emma questions, a faint growl in her voice. Regina clenches her jaw and inclines her head. "Thank you. As I was _about_ to say; since I am the product of true love, I was already powerful. He thinks I may have eventually rivaled the Dark One with proper training, and the draw of it's power likely wouldn't appeal to me… which, truth be told, is a load of rubbish because it _does_ appeal to me but—"

"Emma," Regina groans, her headache now a full-blown migraine. She can only be expected to tolerate so much rambling before she snaps. "Point. Make it."

"Sorry," Emma replies, expression sheepish. She squeezes her hand and takes a breath before saying, "He can't be certain, but he thinks the kiss didn't work because I've already accepted the darkness and don't think of it as a curse."

Regina stares at her in stunned silence. If what she says is true—if Rumple is correct and the reason true love didn't work is because Emma doesn't consider being the Dark One a curse, then this is the person she'll be for the rest of her life.

She doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Does Emma know what it means? Does she realize that if she ever wants to escape the darkness now, there is only one way to do it? "They would have to kill you," she murmurs and her chest _aches_ at the thought. "You cannot tell them."

Emma raises an eyebrow, a combination of a snort and a huff leaving her mouth. "You think my parents would try to kill me? Really?"

Regina shakes her head. "Maybe not _them_."

No. Not them. But others? People who mean well with their insipid good intentions. Who would think they were _honoring_ the memory of the woman she once was? Who couldn't understand the difference between surrender and acceptance? And this isn't even considering those who would use this against Emma—against her parents. How many might attempt to kill her in order to get back at Snow and Charming for some past slight, and then claim they were doing it for the good of everyone else?

How many might actually have a chance to succeed?

Lost within her own thoughts, she is surprised to find emerald eyes staring at her when she emerges, and frowns. Emma grins. "Are you worrying about me in there?"

"Someone has to," Regina barks and snatches back the hand still held within those long, slim fingers. She downs the rest of her cider and stands, walking back to the mantel for a refill with a muttered, " _Idiot._ "

There is a sigh before the sound of rustling reaches her and Regina almost turns, curious despite her frustration, only to stiffen when she feels the heat against her back. "I won't tell them," Emma murmurs, the tip of her nose brushing along the seam of an ear as her hands find hips.

Regina heaves a sigh of her own, the tension seeping from her body as she leans back into the warmth and feels the lips that press into the crook of her neck. She closes her eyes and allows Emma to soothe her, hands caressing her sides as Emma grows bolder and the soft brush of lips turn to outright kissing.

"We agreed to go slow," she reminds them both of their conversation last night and shudders as hands slide across her stomach.

"This is slow," Emma retorts and Regina moans as the wet warmth of a mouth covers her pulse. Emma sucks only briefly before she lifts her head and purrs, "Trust me. If it wasn't, you'd already be naked and passed out on the couch."

Regina's chest rumbles with laughter and she turns in the embrace. "One day your cockiness will cease to be charming, Miss Swan."

Emma grins. "Not today, I hope."

"No," she chuckles and grabs the back of her neck, pulling Emma into a kiss. Not today, she thinks.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The world is ending*

**710.**

Regina stares at the large, bold numbers for a moment. This is the first time she has ever stood on Emma's doorstep without expectations hanging over her and an almost endless spew of hopeful drivel running amok inside her head. She received a text message from Emma earlier that afternoon, asking her to stop by after work and she has no idea what awaits her behind this door.

Breathing deeply in through her nose, she raises her hand and knocks, an anticipation (for what, she doesn't know) bubbling within her. It is at least a full minute before the door swings open, and whatever her expectation might have been, could never compare to the reality that is in front of her.

Over the last few months, she has seen Emma in a number of outfits she would never, in a million years, have imagined the woman in. From knee-length dresses and thigh-high boots, to full on, tight, black leather ensembles reminiscent of her days as the Evil Queen but never, not once, has she ever seen Emma Swan in a suit.

Her mouth waters and heat immediately pools between her thighs as she takes in the sight, aroused beyond words or even simple thought. It occurs to her slowly, but surely, that there is another feeling beneath the crippling lust she feels and as she drags her eyes down Emma's form for what has to be (at the very least) the fifth time, she realizes it is embarrassment.

Not of her reaction. No. If anything, her reaction is exactly what Emma was trying to achieve. She is, oddly enough, rather glad she's likely surpassed expectations. Her embarrassment stems from a feeling of being under dressed and she really, _really_ wants to laugh at the absurdity of the idea.

"You alright there?"

Swallowing roughly, Regina tears her gaze from the sight and forces it up. She first notices the smirk and feels an overwhelming desire to _attack_ it before she mentally shoves the thought aside, their eyes meeting as words begin to trickle their way into her head.

"I'm working my way up to pinching myself," she husks and emerald eyes darken at her voice. "Because this must be a dream."

The smirk widens and Emma steps forward, reaching for her. Regina moves without conscience thought, pressing their bodies together as a hand grazes her arm before rising up over a shoulder to settle against her cheek. She expects a kiss or words, teasing her for that sappy declaration, and is helpless to stop the whimper that comes when Emma pinches her lower lip between thumb and forefinger.

"You're not dreaming," she murmurs and her hand falls as she captures the lip with her own, their mouths slotting perfectly as they both sink into the kiss with simultaneous moans.

As Emma slides her tongue into her mouth, Regina reaches up and threads fingers through her hair. She realizes then that as distracted as she was by Emma in a suit, she'd missed the fact Emma has her hair down and rather than surrender to the almost crippling lust by fisting it in her hands, her touch turns tentative—exploratory. Oh how she has missed these curls, often catching herself wondering if she would ever see them again whenever she caught a glimpse of the strict bun Emma had favoured with her newly obtained darkness.

She feels Emma chuckle against her mouth before she hears it and she pulls back to stare in wonder as she entwines a silken curl around her finger. "I take it you approve," Emma questions throatily before a tongue darts out, distracting Regina from the question as she watches the lipstick disappear from her mouth.

Blinking as Emma's smirk reemerges, Regina releases a breathless chuckle and shakes her head. "You, Miss Swan," she purrs, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "Need a warning label."

"Oh?"

"You are far too attractive," she says, cheeks heating with a blush when Emma laughs and her first thought is that of how the sound is _definitely_ not helping in gaining control of her libido.

"Shall I walk around with Right Said Fred blaring so you have time to brace yourself or…" Head falling to her shoulder, Regina's whole body shakes with laughter and Emma chuckles again as she holds her close.

 _This is what I needed_ , Regina thinks. She had no idea until it was happening but seeing Emma, hearing her voice—her laugh, and feeling the strength in those arms; all day she's been on edge and it is only now that she feels herself start to relax.

As the laughter ebbs and she feels a sense of peace coming over her, Regina sighs deeply, content to let the day's tension fade away as she soaks in the warmth of Emma's embrace.

She wishes everyday would end like this. _Although maybe not always with the persistent buzz between my legs_ , she silently corrects the thought wryly.

Turning her head, she places one last kiss against the side of Emma's neck before she straightens to place a little distance between them. "Is this why you brought me here?"

"Well…" Emma tilts her head from side to side, a thoughtful look on her face. "It's definitely a better start than I had hoped."

"Start," Regina asks, surprised. "You mean there's more?"

Emma grins, stepping back as she takes her by the hand and draws her into the house. "I don't know how much experience you have with dates, but standing outside hugging isn't generally part of it. At least not at the beginning, and not unless you happen to be dating your grandm—huh."

"We are not related," Regina states adamantly, easily following her line of thought. When Emma does that so-so gesture with her hand again, she smacks her arm and insists, "Not even remotely."

"Whatever you say, step grams."

Regina scowls at the moniker, forever determined to loath any reminder that she was ever related to Snow White, and then she stops abruptly, Emma's words finally registering. "Did you say this is a date?"

"That I did," Emma replies, coaxing her into moving again as she tugs on her hand.

"I may not have much experience with dating," Regina drawls, following along obediently. "But I do believe you missed a step."

"And yet here we are," Emma says and as they enter the dining room, Regina gasps at the scene laid out before her.

A table spacious enough to seat at least six comfortably has been set for two, two plates each with their own glass of wine resting side by side, their dishes hidden beneath large, round covers. Her eyes dart from the single red rose between them, to the candles scattered throughout the room before her gaze finally falls on the old stereo nestled within the corner, emanating the soft sounds of what she thinks might be jazz.

Emma either doesn't notice the tears suddenly marring her cheeks, or she pretends not to and Regina allows herself to be lead over to the table where Emma pulls out a chair for her.

"I tried inviting Henry," she murmurs, mouth beside her ear. Regina bites her lip as Emma then brushes her jaw with a kiss before she straightens, rounding the chair to take up her own. "He told me to grow a back bone, so I sent him to stay with my parents as punishment."

Regina smirks, eyebrow rising in question. "You do know that our son adores his grandparents and likely doesn't consider that a punishment, yes?"

"Yeah," Emma sighs dramatically and lifts the lids on their plates with a magical flourish of wrists. "He's such a weirdo, but he did give me a few pointers."

Glancing down at the plate at the familiar scent, Regina feels her mouth water for a second time and groans. "Spaghetti—"

"—alla puttanesca," Emma finishes. "He said it was your favourite. I had to look it up, but it was pretty easy to make…" Her lips quirk with a grin as she adds, "…after I finished laughing at the translation, that is."

"You are such a child," Regina says even as she returns the grin.

Expression serious, Emma deadpans, "I really don't think a child would have had the thoughts that I did, Regina."

Regina blushes, her own thoughts veering off in the same direction before she can stop them. She clears her throat and quickly changes the subject. "So I have Henry to thank for all this then?"

" _Few_ pointers," Emma repeats, throwing her a knowing look as she gestures to their plates. "Your favourite meal, plus which wine he remembers you pairing with it, though his description of _the one with a white label and red top_ wasn't all that much to go on. I may have googled it and… visited your wine cellar to figure it out. The candles, the music and inviting you here under false pretenses; all me."

"You broke into—"

"Visited," Emma interrupts with emphasis. "I did, and you only have yourself to blame. You're the one who can't like a simple burger and fries with a milkshake on the side like the rest of us normal people."

Incredulous, Regina shakes her head and reaches for her wine. "You're actually blaming me for you breaking into my wine cellar," she says, taking a sip and humming as she savors the strong blackberry tang of Primitivo on her tongue.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"I see," she murmurs, placing her glass down as she picks up her fork and begins to eat. She resists a smile as she feels Emma's eyes cataloguing her every movement and a nervous energy fills the air.

The silence lasts little more than a minute before Emma hesitantly speaks up. "Hey Regina?"

Lifting her gaze, she cocks an eyebrow. "Yes Emma?"

Face perfectly straight, Emma tilts her head and asks, "You know whores used to cook this for their clients, right?"

Regina hangs her head as her shoulders jump in silent laughter, conceding the fact that she must be cursed for _this_ to be the woman who has ensnared her heart, and eternally grateful for whoever decided that would be her fate. "Yes Emma," she says once it passes, chest warming as she raises her head to the adoration shining at her from within those beautiful green eyes.

"Just checking," Emma drawls and with dimpled cheeks, she starts to eat.

* * *

 

Regina declares once they're done eating that she wants to go for a walk. Emma proves amendable to the idea, confessing on their way to the park that her initial plans had encompassed dinner and little else. Regina had laughed at that, though in truth she didn't mind, glad she hadn't ruined their night by suggesting something that may have clashed with whatever Emma had in mind.

Dinner had been both unexpected and lovely, and Emma had been a most gracious hostess. Regina hasn't felt this good in years, and it is all thanks to the woman whose arm is currently wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her warm because it hadn't occurred to her to take her coat from the car before they were already halfway through town.

This is much better, anyhow.

Having Emma so close, she is reminded of their kiss in the kitchen as every inhale brings with it the scent of vanilla and leather. That memory, naturally, leads to their more recent kiss and causes the flutter in her stomach to increase tenfold as she peppers kisses along Emma's neck, a knowing chuckle sounding as music in her ears while the tips of fingers lovingly caress the length of her collarbone.

"Keep that up and I'm going to have to take you home," Emma purrs and Regina hums, slipping a hand inside her jacket and over her stomach.

She can feel as much as hear the soft moan Emma gives, stomach clenching beneath her palm as she latches on to a pulse and begins to suck. Emma tilts her head to give her more room and Regina smirks, adding teeth, nibbling the warm, wet flesh as the hand in her shirt dips lower and fingers play in the valley between breasts.

Their breathing picks up at the same time and she presses her thighs together, knowing they should stop before their first time happens out in public (on a particularly uncomfortable park bench, no less) but not _wanting_ to stop as feelings of happiness, love, and an undeniable level of arousal coalesce to form a very hot, very turned on former Evil Queen.

"Regina," Emma moans, a little louder this time as Regina sinks teeth into her neck.

Nails rake a path up her chest, leaving a burning sensation in their wake and it's enough. The pain brings with it a clarity of what she's doing and Regina releases her, soothing the marks she leaves behind with a few, gentle strokes of her tongue and a kiss before she pulls back, cheek resting against a shoulder.

"Sorry," she offers the apology half-hearted and closes her eyes, wishing they were back at one of their houses (taking it slow, be damned) as Emma chuckles.

"Me too," she whispers, turning and pressing a kiss to her forehead before she faces forward again, breathing a mournful sounding sigh.

"Uh oh," Emma murmurs only moments later and Regina lifts her head, eyes fluttering open.

"What?"

"Company," comes the reply and she turns, brow furrowing as she spots Belle marching over to them.

"They said you woke him," the librarian says once she's within earshot and Regina's brows rise in surprise at the trace of anger in her voice.

"I did," Emma admits with a shrug. "And then I didn't."

Jerking her head back to the blonde, Regina stares at her in shock as she begins to understand what it is they're talking about. It hadn't occurred to her to ask what became of Rumple once Emma was done talking to him—not that she particularly cares, she reminds herself. He was her teacher and on occasion somewhat like a father figure to her, yes, but he was also a monster who'd used her for his own personal gains and turned her into another monster of a sorts.

"Why? Why would you do that?"

"Why do you think," Emma counters as Regina returns her head to a shoulder, surprise and confusion diminishing with her continued thoughts.

"He's changed," Belle claims and Regina barely resists a snort. "Without the darkness—"

"Without the darkness," Emma interjects as her fingers dip beneath Regina's shirt to resume their caress of her collarbone. "He is weak and without magic. He is still the man he was, the only difference is he no longer has the power to do what he wants."

Belle shakes her head, shoulders slumping in defeat as she stares at Emma with a pleading looking and murmurs, "I thought you of all people would understand."

Emma scoffs. "Why, because I'm the Dark One?" She laughs, voice filled with contempt as she questions, "Do you think I'm comparable to him now? How many people has he killed? Manipulated? How many lives did he ruin, hmm?"

Belle is quiet for a few seconds before her eyes settle on Regina and she whispers, "So you can forgive her, but not him?"

Regina tenses and Emma's hand stills as she speaks. "She was what he wanted her to be—collateral damage, if you will, for a coward too weak to do what he needed done," she growls with a sneer. "Of course, if he had cast the curse himself, then you'd be dead so I suppose everything worked out well for you."

"You've condemned him," Belle accuses and Regina starts, lurching forward and wide eyed as Emma shoots to her feet

"He condemned himself," she shouts, venom dripping from her words. "I only provided a punishment no less than the one he deserves and if you ever compare either of us to that _monster_ again, you will join him."

Belle freezes with a look of terror on her face and Regina pushes down the panic rising in her chest as she stands. "Emma," she murmurs the name quietly and places a hand on her shoulder, circling to stand in front of her.

The shock painted across her face calms Regina further and she leans in, cupping Emma's cheeks until those bright, bright eyes lose their glaze and regain their focus. "Belle," she says while she still holds Emma's gaze. "Perhaps it would be best if you return home. We will talk later, I promise you."

There is a small stretch of silence before she hears the soft, "Okay," and catches a glimpse of the librarian from the corner of her eye as she passes.

"Is this better or worse?"

Emma squeezes her eyes shut. "Better," she responds with a shake of her head. She breathes in before her eyes open. "It's not." She pauses, hesitates and Regina waits. "I'm not angry. It's—I feel protective, like… like I need to…"

"What do you need," Regina prompts, thumbs stroking her cheeks.

Emma sighs, stepping away as she collapses back down to the bench. "I feel like I need to hurt them," she confesses quietly, head falling into her hands. "Like I need to kill them to protect the people I love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I wrote a date. Me. Have I ever mentioned I hate writing dates? *sigh*
> 
> Are we happy about that date or... did I ruin it? I promise I love Rumbelle. Well... I love Rumple, at least. Belle is kind of whiny and annoying. Sorry. I'll fix it. Don't hate me?


	8. Chapter 8

Removing the jacket Emma had lent her on the walk to her house from the park, Regina drapes it over her arm and leads them into her study. Aside from their brief exchange of the _thank you_ for the jacket and Emma's _you're welcome_ , they hadn't spoken since the confession and it's starting to worry her.

The last time Emma was this quiet, Regina had (rightfully) been thrown out of her house. "Drink," she offers, hoping to break the silence.

When Emma nods but refuses to meet her gaze, Regina sighs and places her jacket on the arm of the couch before she crosses the room to the mantel. She doesn't know what to do, or even if there is anything she can do, but she wants to help if she can and she can't do that if Emma won't even _look_ at her let alone talk to her.

Deciding the situation calls for something a little stronger than cider, she conjures the bottle of whiskey she keeps beside her bed for those long nights in which she suffers irritating bouts of insomnia, and pours them both a glass. "Emma," she starts, jumping when an arm reaches around her and plucks the glass from her hand.

"Don't," Emma cautions and Regina slowly turns. She watches as Emma tilts her head back, downing the drink in one go before she adds, "It won't end on a high note for either of us," and returns the glass to her hand.

"You don't think I can help," Regina assumes, offering Emma her own full glass before she turns back to refill the other and tries to ignore the twinge of disappointment in her chest.

"You have..." Sensing the hesitation in her voice, Regina waits. "You _do_ ," Emma corrects after another moment as she places a hand on her shoulder.

Regina turns again, swallowing down the lump in her throat at the sincere expression Emma wears. "How," she whispers, genuinely at a loss. She hasn't done anything, certainly nothing that would warrant the gratitude she can see in those eyes.

Staring back at her, brows almost disappearing into her hairline, Emma questions, "Are you serious? Have you forgotten about Blue already?"

_What the hell does Blue have to do with anything?_ Regina frowns and Emma shakes her head with a chuckle. "Regina, another minute or two and when you came downstairs that day, it would have been to an entirely different scene."

"You mean…"

"I was ready to kill her," Emma confesses with a nod, pivoting on her heel and moving to the couch where she takes a seat before continuing. "You stopped me, and you did it again tonight."

She leans back with a sigh and admits, "I don't know how to talk about it and I'm not looking for anyone to understand it, even though I know you have a better chance of that than anyone, but I do know that you're the reason I haven't lost it completely."

As the confession sinks in, Regina allows the weight of it to settle on her shoulders and downs her own drink. Much like the title of Savior, Emma's words aren't without pressure but if the woman she loves is relying on her to prevent her from going over the edge, then it is a responsibility she's willing to accept.

It does, however, create its own set of problems and if she has any hope of succeeding, she needs answers to the questions that are starting to form in her mind. "What happens when I'm not around and you lose your temper," she asks, bringing the bottle of whiskey as she moves to the couch and sits beside her.

Emma shakes her head. "That won't happen."

"How do you know," Regina prods, pouring another drink. She wants to believe her but she needs more than that. "If you expect me to drop this and not seek help for you, then you need to convince me that I won't one day receive a phone call telling me someone's dead and you've gone AWOL."

"Blue was a threat. Rumple was a threat."

Regina nods. Rumple is likely nothing more than a coward now, but he knows things. He was the Dark One for centuries and even if he didn't use his knowledge to hurt Emma, someone else could have just as easily gotten their hands on him and pried information out of him to do it themselves. Blue. Well, Blue needs no justification, especially not after the confrontation on her doorstep.

"Belle wasn't," she eventually points out.

"No," Emma agrees, sounding regretful.

"So why is she different?"

Shoulders rise with a shrug as Emma sips her drink before she licks her lips and replies hesitantly, "She hurt you."

A disbelieving laugh bubbles in Regina's throat. If that's all it takes, she doesn't have a hope of stopping Emma and half of Storybrooke will be dead within the week. "She isn't the first to say something painful, Emma, and I doubt she'll be the last."

"I…" Emma trails off and leans forward, placing her glass on the table before she sits back. "I don't like knowing that, but it's different when we're not together. If someone says something about you and you're not there, I can ignore it."

"So this is because of me?"

"No. Not exactly." Emma frowns. "I mean it is, but it isn't."

"I'm going to need you to explain that," Regina says calmly as she tries not to jump to conclusions.

Emma smiles softly. "What I mean is, if it's someone I care strongly about; you, Henry—my parents, then… it's hard to resist. Most of the time I can control it, but when it comes to you four I…"

"Lose your shit," Regina supplies when the pause lasts some time. Emma chuckles and inclines her head. "It sounds a lot like what I went through as the Evil Queen, the difference being that my darkness has been inside of me since birth whereas yours is... it isn't even yours."

They're both quiet after that and Regina watches as Emma's brow creases in thought. She is curious, but doesn't ask. She needs time to think herself, to absorb everything and perhaps come up with a way to help Emma that won't make it seem as though she's still trying to save her.

It really does sound like Emma is going through what she herself went through as the Evil Queen. There is another difference she hadn't mentioned, and although it isn't something she's likely to ever admit out loud, she does take comfort in knowing it.

The Evil Queen was insane; at her worst she was incapable of rationale, logic—basic human decency. She was intelligent and possessed a strategically gifted mind, certainly, but she was also manipulative, deceptive and so far beyond conceited that Regina still sometimes marvels at the fact the Queen had such loyal subjects.

Emma is no shining beacon of righteous morality (as much as Regina is sure it might pain her parents to admit) but her mind remains her own; hallucinations notwithstanding and while it might not seem like much to someone else, for someone who has been through it, Regina knows it can make all the difference in the world.

As someone who has cursed herself and her enemies to a whole new land, she knows that the first step to overcome the struggle is to face ones triggers head on. It had been hard for her in the beginning; Mary Margaret seemed to always pop up out of nowhere to test her willpower, but over time, her presence was little more than a nuisance that became easier to ignore throughout the years.

Of course, she didn't have magic back then and couldn't simply slip a poisoned apple on to the school teacher's desk. She frowns. Emma's magic is going to make helping her more difficult.

Feeling the couch dip and rise beneath her, she looks up in time to catch Emma retrieving her jacket, and her frown deepens. "Where are you going?"

"It's late," Emma replies, shrugging the jacket on and buttoning it up while Regina glances at the clock. It is late, she realizes, almost 11pm in fact.

"Stay," she says, rising, willing to beg if need be. Before the park—before Belle and the mess they now find themselves in, she had fun tonight and despite it all, she isn't ready to let Emma go.

Emma sighs and Regina _loathes_ the apologetic look she receives. "I'm not really in the mood to play house guest, Regina."

"How about girlfriend," she counters, closing the distance between them. Regina leans into her, arms sliding over shoulders and around her neck as she questions, "Are you in the mood to play that?"

Brow raised, "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting," Emma questions, a hint of humour in her voice.

"If you think I'm suggesting we share a bed and try to keep our hands to ourselves," Regina drawls with a grin. "Unfortunately, yes."

Emma smirks and places her hands on hips. "Are you going to braid my hair and start a pillow fight too?"

Feigning shock, Regina gasps and adopts a chiding tone. "After a first date," she replies, mock scandalized as Emma chuckles. "Miss Swan, how dare you."

* * *

 

Waking slowly from her first dreamless sleep in months, Emma smiles and slides an arm across the body that lies half on top of her. Alcohol combined with the events of the day before, she'd passed out at almost the exact moment her head hit the pillow, a murmured _sweet dreams_ in her ear and the feel of soft lips on her cheek.

The darkness inside of her is quiet, content beneath the weight of the woman she loves as a warm breath continuously wafts against the side of her neck. In Regina's presence, she finds a peace she thought forever lost to the voices in her head and she is free to think—to feel without her thoughts warping her emotions into something ugly, something toxic that only ever seemed possible in the hearts of psychotic fictional villains.

Her desire to hurt those who have wronged her, both intentionally and unintentionally is non-existent. There is little she feels right now besides her affection for the woman in her arms, and little thought beyond that of a future in which this morning will seem like nothing compared to those she often caught herself in the midst of imagining.

Whether days, weeks or months from now, she hopes to one day rise from this bed with the taste of Regina in her mouth, the sight she drinks in that morning as she readies herself to begin the day; naught but smooth, olive flesh as Regina lies limp within the sheets and with a smile on her lips.

Alas, she knows, this morning will not be that morning and she feels the darkness stirring inside of her as she guides Regina on to her back. She pauses but a moment to take in this sight instead before she slips from the bed, a small surge of happiness propelling her to dress and right her wrong from last night as she tugs on her jacket and vanishes in a cloud of smoke.

Belle screams, startled, and Emma quickly steals the sound from the air. "Nice lungs, bookworm."

Taking a look at their surroundings, she realizes they're in the hospital and she turns, advancing a step towards the bed in which Rumple remains in his coma before a hand clamps down on her wrist. She glances back over a shoulder and at the look of fear in blue eyes, she rolls her own.

"Relax, I'm not here to harm either of you," she assures and snaps her fingers, returning Belle's voice now that the risk of being deafened has passed.

"You'll forgive me if I don't quite believe you," Belle counters and Emma inclines her head with a chuckle.

"Perhaps," she replies as she snatches her hand from the surprisingly strong grip. "But believe it or not, I came to you for another reason entirely—one that might be more effective if I skip the words I intended and simply prove them to you."

Not waiting for a response, she walks over to the bed and lays a hand across Rumple's forehead. She hadn't been able to enact the exact coma he was in before she woke him (sending souls to purgatory is a bit beyond _this_ Dark One's powers) and because of that simple fact, she doesn't need Baelfire's shawl as she begins to chant.

When one anguished gasp is followed by another, much lighter one in surprise, she pulls her hand back and forms a fist at her side. The voices rise inside of her with whispers of betrayal and the venomous promise of retribution to come as Belle rushes forward, her own words drowned out as Emma stumbles away from the bed.

Conjuring forth her magic as darkness gathers at the edge of her vision, she disappears the same way she'd come and Regina shoots up in bed at her sudden entrance. "Make it stop," Emma groans, a third, panicked gasp ringing in her ears as she collapses to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I did say I'd fix it. *sigh* Now I have to fix Emma.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit short, sorry. I greatly detest Emma not being in the chapter, but the good news is I am totally fixing it as soon as possible.

_"Make it stop."_

Even in her sleep-addled state, Regina is cognizant enough (thanks to an untold number of surprise past visits from her mother and Rumple both) to transport Emma to the bed before she hits the ground. She checks her pulse to calm the panic that immediately tries to burst free and upon finding the steady beat, she breathes a sigh of relief.

She stares down at the blonde head in her lap and waits for her mind to clear. Just when she had started to think the two of them might be able to have something normal together, she wakes to this. "What the hell have you done this time," she murmurs, fingers weaving through tousled golden strands.

Part of her wants to believe she's dreaming but, try as she might to hold on to the glimmer of hope, the thought fades with each second, her awareness sharpening until all that's left is the reality of the fact Emma has done something she probably shouldn't have, and is now paying the price for it.

Forcing her eyes from the furrowed brow Emma wears while unconscious, Regina takes the time to slowly examine the rest of her. There is no blood, no cuts or abrasions. Emma's suit is rumpled, but with no obvious tears visible she thinks that is most likely due to the fact Emma had simply thrown it on, and therefore is an unlikely hint to a struggle having taken place before she appeared.

With every little piece of information she catalogues somewhere in the back of her mind, Regina feels her concern diminish further as confusion and (a shameful emotion given the circumstances, in her opinion) slight annoyance takes its place.

As she'd watched Emma sleep the night before, she'd started to plan their morning together. She thought she would wake to Emma sleeping peacefully beside her and, at first, she would try to wake her. A brief but no less fun argument would ensue when Emma refused and, eventually, Regina would accept the inevitable as she stole a kiss before she dressed and went downstairs to cook them both breakfast.

 _Emma Swan; Ladies and Gentlemen_ , she thinks with a smile, ruining even her most well-intentioned and domestic of plans since birth. "I suppose I should figure out what you did," she says, letting out another sigh as she levitates Emma with a gesture and slides out from beneath her.

Setting her back down, she strips off Emma's suit and shoes while she considers the list of possibilities to explain her condition, and pulls the duvet up to her hips as she decides the most plausible reason has something to do with Blue. She wouldn't put it past the gnat to retaliate against Emma for giving away her secrets, and with the thought, she finds that her anger rises swiftly to the surface.

"I should have let you kill the bitch when you had the chance." With a sneer, she dresses herself with a flick of the wrist before her surroundings distort, changing as her body manifests within the Charming's apartment.

"Mom," Henry grumbles from beside her and the anger is gone before she can truly grasp it at the sound of his voice. She turns, glancing down at his sleepy face with a smile as she hears the simultaneous greetings from Charming and Snow.

"Good morning, my darling," she replies, ignoring the two idiots for a moment. He slides an arm around her waist and squeezes briefly as she asks, "How was your night?"

"Fun," he says with a shrug and, after a slight pause, adds, "Grandpa still can't drive."

She turns to Charming with a glare and he holds up his hands with a grin. "He's talking about his racing game, Regina." His expression turns sheepish and he looks to Henry as he defends himself. "The cars are too fast, it isn't my fault I crash all the time."

"Mom would wipe the floor with you," Henry comments around a mouthful of oatmeal and Regina feels herself smirk at the declaration; raising a teenage son did come with _some_ unexpected (but not altogether unpleasant) benefits.

Charming shifts, feigning interest in something over Regina's shoulder and doing his best to ignore her gaze. Her smirk widens and she continues to stare for a moment or two before setting her eyes on his wife. "Snow," she drawls. "I wish to speak with Blue. Where might I find her?"

"Why?"

Regina stares blankly at her, waiting to see if the simpleton is truly questioning her rather than bending to her will as per usual, and snaps when she realizes Snow has, in fact, grown a backbone. _How novel_. "I hardly see how that is any of your concern."

"Emma gave her to us," Snow counters and crosses her arms. Regina cocks an eyebrow. That is true, and she still doesn't understand _why_ exactly Emma had done such a thing. She truly is a terrible Dark One. "She is our prisoner, Regina."

"Prisoner," she repeats, annoyance giving way to surprise. "On what grounds did you arrest her?"

"Conspiracy to commit murder for one," Snow states matter of fact.

"Without proof?"

"I am a Queen, what do I need of proof?"

 _Will wonders never cease_ , Regina muses silently and with pride in her voice says, "My dear Snow, you are finally growing up."

Snow sighs but relaxes her stance, shaking her head as she rounds the counter that separates the kitchen from the living room. "Why do you need to speak to Blue, Regina?"

"Now that I know she's imprisoned, I don't think I do." Regina frowns, reconsidering her previous thought. If Blue isn't to blame for whatever happened to Emma, then that only leaves the former Dark One and according to the argument last night; he is still in a coma. "You know for certain that she _is_ still locked up, yes?"

"We put her in the mine," David explains, joining his wife on the couch.

Realization dawns and Regina nods in understanding. Blue can't have done something to Emma from inside Rumplestiltskin's former cell, nor could she have escaped without the assistance of magic—or someone powerful enough. No. It would make far more sense for her to have tried to make a deal with Emma to set her free, not harm her. "Well then, it seems I no longer need to speak with her. Would you mind if Henry stayed a few more hours? I would take him home but I have a few errands to run first."

"That's fine," Snow says with a wave of her hand, voice softening in concern as she questions, "You will tell us if something is wrong, won't you?"

"Of course," Regina lies easily and turns to Henry, ignoring his narrowed gaze and bending down slightly to kiss him on the forehead before she straightens.  "Be good for your grandparents."

"Yes Mom," he replies with a roll of his eyes, flashing a crooked smile when she clucks her tongue in reprimand before she disappears.

* * *

 

When she arrives at the hospital, it is to the sight of a very awake Rumplestiltskin and a teary eyed librarian. She grimaces at the lovesick expressions they wear while staring at each other, and feels no shame whatsoever as she interrupts the moment with a loud bark. "What did you do?"

Belle gasps, leaping out of the chair she'd pulled to the side of the bed, which causes Regina to smirk. Rumple, however, merely turns his head as if he'd been expecting her and the smirk falters. "Pardon?"

"Emma," she repeats, now less certain than she had been in the seconds it took to transport herself from the Charming's apartment.  "What did you to do to Emma?"

"We didn't do anything," Belle argues but Regina brushes her presence aside, knowing Rumple must know something by the look on his face.

"You're awake," she says to him, moving closer as she continues the line of thought. "Emma had to have awoken you."

He inclines his head. "She did."

When he offers nothing else, she feels the anger from before flare and snaps, "And?"

"And she disappeared before I could ask why," he sighs, suddenly appearing weaker as he lies back and closes his eyes. She wonders, briefly, if he somehow managed to fall back to sleep in those short few seconds before he speaks again. "What happened?"

"I don't know," she admits, swallowing down the lump in her throat that forms at those words. She had been so certain that it was Blue who'd done something, and now her only other option seems even less likely to blame. "She came to me and she asked me to make it stop, but before she could tell me what _it_ was, she collapsed. It was almost… almost as if she was cursed."

"Ah," he breathes the word like another sigh and before she can ask, he explains, "Ordinarily, I would tell you that as the Dark One, she is _already_ cursed and cannot be cursed again. But since she has accepted the darkness as a part of herself, that is no longer true and you may have just answered your own question."

"You mean to tell me she transferred your curse to herself?"

"All magic comes with a price," he reminds her and she is surprised when the words aren't immediately followed by a giggle, too used to that phrase coming from her former teacher. "I imagine the darkness isn't all too happy with her performing what one might call an act of good."

Banishing memories of the creepy, overdramatic imp from her mind, Regina shakes her head and asks, "How do I fix it? How can I wake her up?"

For someone supposedly terrified of his own shadow now that he is no longer the Dark One, Rumple wears an unusually smug look as he returns her question with one of his own. "Is that not obvious?"

"That won't… we're not—"

"Now, Regina," he interrupts, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth, much in the same way hers had with Henry. "I may no longer be the Dark One, but I can still see into the future."

"You can…" She pauses, thinking she may have heard wrong but unable to come up with anything even remotely logical that could be mistaken for what she thinks she heard. "You can see into the future," she repeats the words slowly and the nod of his head is subtle, but there. "How?"

"I stole the gift from a seer," he answers simply, the corner of his mouth lifting in the beginnings of a grin. "It was never a power of the Dark One."

"And Emma and I are…" She blinks, shaking her head. No. She refuses to believe. She had come to terms with the fact True Love isn't for her, and then this happens.

"Fate is a funny mistress," he replies, seemingly reading her thoughts. He opens his eyes and his grin blossoms fully as he adds, "If you truly want something bad enough, eventually she will grant it."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I have already been informed that I am both a dick and an asshole for leaving it there.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wholeheartedly blame [this](https://www.google.co.nz/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0CB0QyCkwAGoVChMI5N378ab8yAIV5dymCh09YArh&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Dy_1lJCNPVOA&usg=AFQjCNErdpuCvFgQLy-Kzc1xU_TMXQDVmw&sig2=KVGFe6iiJ-Vgm3vpibqWyA&bvm=bv.106923889,d.dGY) song for this chapter.

True Love.

Regina walks along the street, the words heavy in her mind as she takes her time in returning home. She has waited a lifetime for this; confirmation that she is worth as much to someone as that someone is worth to her. To hear Rumplestiltskin say that person is Emma has filled her with both relief and an overwhelming sense of dread. She loves Emma more than she ever thought possible, but is she truly worthy of her when all she can think is that their love, even when true, hadn't been enough to set Emma free?

She wants to accept Emma. She thought she had, but deep down, she still had hope that one day she would find a way to save her from that darkness. History has proven time and again that all Dark Ones care for is power, and that they will resort to any measure necessary to obtain it.

Even if Emma is different and cares nothing for power, she has only been the Dark One for a few months. What happens when she gets bored? What if when their relationship is at a point where it's as good as it gets, Emma needs something else to occupy her time? It is unrealistic to think the Dark One might go back to being a small town Sheriff—that she could possibly be content in such a mundane and often rather thankless position (considering the crime rate of Storybrooke is practically non existent) is completely laughable, really.

And if Regina is being entirely honest with herself; that concern is merely the icing on the cake.

It hasn't escaped her notice that everything Emma has done so far has been because of her, one way or another. First it was Arthur who thought he could gain control of her town by threatening her life and the life of those she loved; a belief Emma had been quick to disprove when she'd turned him to stone and taken a hammer to him as those closest to her looked on in fascinated horror.

It was the first time since the latest curse was cast that they'd seen exactly what Emma was capable of, and is likely the reason a majority of the town still fears Emma now.

Then there was Robin. When Emma found out (from her loudmouthed mother, naturally) that he'd chosen to stay with Zelena and raise their child with her, she'd appeared in the forest clearing where he'd camped and was in the process of crushing his heart when Regina found them, having received a frantic call from Snow. Emma hadn't known at the time, but the decision hadn't been made lightly and it had taken Regina weeks to convince Robin it was the right thing to do before he'd finally agreed with her.

Blue, Rumplestiltskin and Belle weren't quite the victims those two were but they were victims all the same; connected to her and therefore enemies in the eyes of one Emma Swan. It had taken her a while to figure it out, but after listening to Emma speak of the feeling she gets when she lashes out and after their conversation in the study last night, she was almost embarrassed she hadn't figured it out sooner.

It is her; her pain and Emma's need to protect her that has been responsible for every bad thing Emma has done since she sacrificed herself, and while the Evil Queen inside of her might preen at the knowledge of having such a fierce, ruthless protector, _she_ isn't the one who has to deal with the consequences—the guilt that starts to eat away at her when she considers who else might suffer because of her.

Is there a line Emma won't cross, and if so, where is it drawn? Will Snow be next? Charming? Will she remember the way their son treated her that first year she came to town and decide he needs to be punished as well?

The thought that Emma could hurt him causes a terrible ache in her chest, and Regina hates herself for even thinking it, but how can she not? She trusts Emma now and she can see that Emma is trying to resist the control the darkness has over her, but what happens if she one day loses the fight and she ends up hurting someone she loves?

What then?

All this doubt she has and yet fate has decided _she_ is the one who will love Emma in the way that she deserves, in the way that she _needs_ to be loved after so many years without. Regina shakes her head and sighs.

Perhaps Rumple had lied to her and he and Belle are sitting up in his hospital room, laughing at her as she works herself into such a miserable state simply because, for once in her life, she wants to _believe_ in something. She has spent too much time feeling hopeless, useless—worthless and now that she has the chance for something more, something worthwhile, she is agonizing over a future that may never come to pass.

With a groan, her hand cuts through the air and she stands within her bedroom, eyes finding Emma the second the smoke clears from around her. She sits on the edge of the bed, suddenly overcome with exhaustion as tears begin to form in her eyes. She could wake Emma right now, let her reassure her like she knows she will, but her doubts have grown and transformed into something more, something familiar.

What if Rumple truly had lied and her kiss doesn't wake Emma? It would break her heart, the disappointment she will surely feel afterwards too much to bear.

But then, what if he hadn't and Emma does wake? What if their happiness only lasts a short while before Emma realizes loving her is as much a burden as Regina believes it to be? She might survive the former heartbreak, but the latter? There would be no coming back from that. She has been abandoned too many times that it might very well kill her were Emma ever added to the list of those better left in the past.

No. Emma needs to wake, but her heart will remain intact for now.

* * *

 

Emerald eyes fly open and Emma parts her lips, ready to tease Regina for kissing her on the _cheek_ of all places before she realizes they're not the only ones in the room. She stares at Henry, his face mere inches from her own, and a scowl slowly forms as understanding dawns on her.

"Oh for fuck sakes," she snaps, mindful of what she is—or rather, isn't—wearing as she vanishes from the bed and reappears behind Regina.

Regina spins on her heel, a combination of surprise and exasperation in her expression. Emma can _see_ the words forming in her head and grabs her by the chin, putting a stop to them being given voice as she hisses, "You are in no position to chide me for my language."

The click of teeth is loud in the otherwise silent room and the jaw ripples beneath her hand. Emma ignores the anger that enters chestnut eyes and glances over Regina's shoulder towards their son. She tilts her head and he takes the hint, sending a pleading look in her direction before he scurries from the room, closing the door behind him as she returns her attention to the infuriating woman in her grasp.

"Let me see if I understand what just happened here," she says, releasing Regina and taking a step back. "You harp on about us being true love and the one chance—a chance that may never come again, I might add—you had to prove to yourself that is what we have, you chickened out. Is that about the gist of it?"

A lip curls in a sneer and Regina growls, "Did it occur to you that I tried and it failed? That Henry was the second attempt?"

"No," Emma shouts, throwing her hands in the air. She just relived a good portion of her childhood that will cause her to have nightmares for months to come, and Regina couldn't even be bothered to fucking kiss her?

"No," Regina repeats, voice mocking. "So I'm to assume you know we're true love and that's it? There's absolutely no possibility we might not be."

Teeth bared, Emma's chest rumbles with a growl of her own. "I love you. I have loved you for too long and too deeply for it to be anything else. _You_ were the one that wanted proof, so why the hell did Henry wake me?"

Regina opens her mouth to retort, but before the first word can even leave her tongue, she seems to reconsider.

Minutes tick by in complete silence and Emma waits, a wary confusion mounting as she watches the softness slowly enter Regina's expression. She jerks back when Regina raises a hand, and is shocked to hear the chuckle that leaves dark lips before she feels the nails dig into her shoulder and the hand tugs her forward.

"I don't see what the hell is so funny," she grumbles, wanting to hold on to her own anger but finding it more and more difficult once she takes note of the smile playing along the edge of Regina's mouth and discovers that she can't quite stop staring at it.

"You," Regina murmurs without hesitation. "Countless doubts… gone in an instant." She chuckles again and shakes her head. "You _cursed_ yourself so that I might know the depth of your love for me, and yet your words say more than a kiss ever could. You are infuriating and _ridiculous_ , Emma Swan, and you are far too precious a soul to waste on me."

Emma grins before she can even think to stop it. She hadn't known exactly what to expect when she lifted the curse from Rumple, but she'd known there was a price involved and in coming to Regina when the pain set in, she'd hoped to kill two birds with one stone. The thought of having subjected herself to her own curse for nothing (aside from the whole appeasing Belle thing, which isn't really all that important or significant now that she thinks about it) is what angered her, but if her goal has been achieved despite the small hiccup, she is content.

She meant what she'd said. Who knows, maybe the kiss wouldn't have worked, but there isn't a single doubt in her mind that Regina is the one for her. Through curses, through worlds, through _amnesia_ , the one constant has always been Regina. She may not have remembered her name or that gorgeous face, but even without her memories, Emma knows what home feels like and Regina is most definitely it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And [this](https://www.google.co.nz/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0CB0QyCkwAGoVChMI4pCKj6n8yAIVBC-mCh0gZATY&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D3YJz0w0NaRU&usg=AFQjCNGVIYWpfOpU4mqgx-zZTKRlRe9xGA&sig2=VoO7jSTgxpe47eQPqNyyFQ&bvm=bv.106923889,d.dGY) one. A little bit. Like | | this much.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the rating change. I'm sure it was expected sooner or later. I certainly had it planned for later, but the muse had other ideas and as stated in the first chapter, I am, without a doubt, my muse's bitch.

What makes Emma decide to kiss her, she isn't entirely sure but one minute they're staring at each other, and the next she's leaning in. Maybe it is the thought of home, or maybe it is the acceptance of their love she can see in those eyes but whatever the reason, she immediately knows the decision is right as their lips fit together perfectly and Regina sinks into her.

Arms slide over her shoulders to wrap around her neck, fingers threading through her hair as Regina pulls them more firmly against each other and softly moans into her mouth. Emma slips her own arms around Regina's waist, hands gliding beneath the purple silk shirt she wears to caress the warm, smooth skin of her back. Regina shivers and Emma hums, parting her lips to welcome the tongue that pushes, eager, between them.

Her stomach fuses with arousal at the first tentative scratch of nails along her scalp and she squeezes the body in her arms in reassurance, wondering how those nails might feel raking down her spine as Regina takes the hint, digging in deeper and causing her nipples to harden in response. She knows it won't last, knows there is no way she can take them further because Henry is somewhere in the house but god, does she wish he was anywhere else in this moment.

When they do part, Regina's eyes are smoldering coals and if her thoughts are any indication, Emma needs to leave right now before she does something she certainly won't regret. Before she can decide the best way to excuse herself, however, Regina buries her head in the crook of her neck and this seems like a perfectly good reason to stay.

"Are you okay," she asks, voice barely above a whisper, and she feels Regina nod against her. She sighs softly and tightens the embrace, resting a cheek on the side of her head as she closes her eyes, simply accepting the moment to enjoy having the woman she loves in her arms.

After a while, when the silence starts to become less than comfortable, she speaks again. "Thank you for rescuing me," she murmurs, lips brushing Regina's temple as she lifts her head to stare at her, disbelief in her expression.

"I didn't—" Regina begins to deny it but Emma expects as much and she interrupts.

"Kiss me yourself," she finishes, smiling softly. "But Henry wouldn't have known if you hadn't told him and I am… definitely glad to be awake for one of yours."

Regina kisses her again then, and Emma chuckles against her mouth, slipping a hand out from under her shirt to cup the back of her head. Her other hand remains, trailing the notches of a spine, first up and then down down down until the tips of her fingers slip beneath the waistband of slacks and Regina squirms against her.

The voice in her head goads her further, filling her mind with images of how she wants the scenario to play out; picturing the button popping from Regina's pants as Emma shoves both hands beneath the waistband and clutches the globes of her ass, pulling, urging Regina to jump up and wrap legs around her waist before she stumbles back toward the bed.

The thoughts only spiral from there and Emma groans as she tears herself away from temptation. Regina whimpers at the sudden loss of contact, arms dropping to her side as she blinks furiously and confusion stains her brow.

"Sorry," Emma offers and tries to smile, but it falls the second she looks down and sees the way Regina's chest is heaving as she tries to catch her breath. She swallows thickly and forces her gaze back up, only to find the confusion gone, replaced by a look of gleeful amusement.

"Is the Dark One having a little trouble controlling herself," Regina purrs the question, a hint of laughter in her voice and a teasing smirk on her lips.

Emma is affronted. She isn't the one panting for breath. "Like you would have stopped us if I hadn't," she accuses, unsurprised when the smirk only widens.

"No," Regina agrees, stepping into her, hands cupping her cheeks and yanking her forward. "I wouldn't have," she murmurs, her tongue flicking a lower lip.

Emma moans and Regina re-tangles fingers in her hair, hands curling into fists to hold her in place as she conquers her mouth with lips, teeth and tongue. And Emma is done. Done resisting the desire to do what she has wanted to ever since waking that morning. She palms a cheek of Regina's ass with one hand, and snaps the fingers of the other, casting one of only two spells she can seem to remember at the moment.

Regina pulls back, brows furrowed as she glances about the room in time to witness the walls shimmer. Understanding quickly replaces confusion and they're kissing again, only this time Emma is stumbling back towards the bed beneath the insistent press of hands on her shoulders. It isn't exactly the way she envisioned it, but she isn't about to complain, more invested in freeing them from their clothes than she is the perfection of the act.

By the time her knees hit the edge of the bed, Regina's shirt hangs open in an invitation Emma is all too happy to accept and she turns them before she drops to her knees. Regina groans as lips blaze a trail across her stomach and Emma tightly clutches her hips, delighting in the feel of the muscles contracting in response to her mouth. She licks, nibbles and sucks warm, olive flesh, creating a path she revisits over and over again. From the cute, sexy bellybutton all the way down to where coarse material vanishes between thighs and she buries her nose, a growl rumbling in her chest as, each time, she manages to catch the faint scent of arousal.

"Emma," Regina whines and Emma closes her eyes, relishing the sound of unmistakable want in her tone and the tug of her hair. Her mouth closes around the skin between her teeth and she sucks, hard enough to bruise as she slides a hand from hip to the button in the way of what she truly wishes was inside her mouth.

As the zipper falls and she leans back, she opens her eyes and her breath hitches as they land on the darkened patch of purple lace. Regina tugs again and Emma tilts her head back, gaze slowly travelling the length of that gorgeous body. She pauses on the flush of Regina's chest before another tug forces her eyes the rest of the way and she finally meets the hungry expression there to greet her.

"Stop teasing me, Swan," Regina growls, the threat in her voice diminished but obvious beneath the desire-laced husk.

For some unknown reason, Emma suddenly wants to test her and so that is exactly what she does. She grins, clearly up to no good and Regina narrows her eyes before releasing a sharp gasp. Emma tongues wet lace, humming as the slightly salty flavour assaults her taste buds and Regina's gasp tapers off to a whimper.

Emma drags her tongue along the seam of a thigh before she delves beneath lace, pulling it to one side and pushing her tongue between slick folds. Regina tightens the grip on her hair, a wanton sound slithering its way up her throat as her head falls back and she grinds herself against Emma's face.

It isn't enough.

Emma wants more and before Regina can protest her stopping, Emma stands, shoving her back onto the bed where she bounces and her shirt parts further to reveal the glorious shape of her breasts. Emma strips them of their remaining clothes with a gesture of the hand before she crashes down on top of her, joining their lips in another passionate kiss as their chests rub together and their simultaneous moans fill the air.

"Gods," Regina groans when she's finally allowed to come up for air, back arching as Emma rises to her elbows to stare down at flushed cheeks and wild, sex-mussed hair. "If you don't finish what you started, so help me Emma Swan, I will murder you."

Emma chuckles but she has no intention of waiting any longer and begins kissing her way down, from the sharp jaw to the rapid, throbbing pulse in Regina's neck, and then to breasts where she takes her time to worship. She sucks a soft, dark nipple into her mouth, fascinated by the sounds of pleasure Regina releases as she nibbles the small bud while fondling the other, pinching and pulling until it hardens between the tips of her fingers and she switches, taking it into her mouth.

Regina claws at her arms when she finally proceeds down, seemingly torn between wanting her to continue and wanting the attention back on her breasts. Emma doesn't let her decide, ignoring the nails tearing through her skin as she descends, and reaching her destination with a heady moan as she inhales the strong scent of desire that assaults her nose.

"Oh fuck," the curse is desperate—breathless and Emma smiles around her mouthful of flesh, sucking the juices from wet, swollen folds and closing her eyes in satisfaction as a surge of heat coats the fingers she brings between legs.

"Please," Regina begs and Emma slides one into her, moaning as walls contract around the digit before she adds another. "Yes. Oh god, yes!"

As she starts to thrust, she traces lips with the tip of her tongue, gathering what wetness she can before she presses between them in search of Regina's clit. The moment Emma finds it, she wraps her mouth around the bundle of nerves and slaps a hand down on a stomach as hips buck against her face.

Regina shudders and writhes beneath her, a mumble of incoherent words falling from her mouth, and Emma drives her fingers in deeper—harder, needing, wanting, demanding Regina's release as her teeth graze that small, hard nub and Regina screams. Her back arches what can only be painfully from the bed and her thighs slam shut around Emma's head as she comes hard.

With slow, cleansing licks Regina comes down from her high and Emma lifts her head as she is freed from the hold. She smiles at the look of complete bliss Regina wears and crawls up to welcome her back with a kiss. Regina hums before surprising her and Emma suddenly finds herself on her back as the kiss deepens, those same thighs now clamped down on her hips.

"What are you doing," she murmurs against lips, taking the chance before the tongue returns to her mouth and she loses all train of thought permanently.

Regina retreats, eyebrow raised as her eyes are drawn to Emma's chest. She cups her breasts and squeezes before she replies, "Is that not obvious?"

"But Henry…"

"Has never," she interrupts, tracing nipples with the pads of her thumbs and causing Emma to shiver as she continues, "And will never, come into my room without my explicit permission. I also believe you have already taken the trouble of ensuring his ignorance against what the two of us could possibly be doing in here."

Emma rolls her eyes, not at all against the idea of them continuing this but content with what she's been allowed so far as she argues, "He isn't stupid, Regina."

"Of course not," Regina snaps with a frown, stilling as she stares down at her with the beginnings of anger forming in her eyes.

"And he knows what we're doing," Emma says, voice softening as she lifts a hand and cups her cheek. The last thing she wants is for them to start arguing for no reason.

"Yes," Regina sighs in concession, leaning into the touch. "But that is hardly through fault of our own, now is it?"

"You…" Emma pauses, smiling and shaking her head before she finishes the thought. "You have a point."

"Don't I always," Regina questions haughtily and Emma nods. "Now, do you mind or is there another reason you think I shouldn't return the favour?"

"Not at all," Emma replies and pushes herself up, hands keeping her steady as she lowers her voice and purrs against dark lips. "In fact, I was going to suggest sending him back to his grandparents so this can continue indefinitely."

Regina groans and Emma chuckles, falling back as their mouths collide messily once more. She runs one hand along a back damp with sweat and clasps the back of her neck as she rests the other on a hip, enticing Regina to rub against her as she flexes her stomach in response to the heat that settles on top of it.

In no time at all, Regina realizes what it is she's doing and growls, tearing the hand from her hip and entwining their fingers as she slams it back against the pillow beneath Emma's head. "Don't even think about it, Swan," she murmurs against her mouth.

Emma grins, lifting the hand at the back of her neck in surrender and holding it up for Regina to capture. Regina repeats what she'd done to the other hand, their fingers weaving together as Emma lowers them both to the opposite side of her head and arches her back. Regina releases a husky breath of laughter and briefly grinds down, smiling as she presses their heads together.

"You're a nuisance," she whispers and nibbles kiss-swollen lips.

"And you're going to have a hard time getting me off while you hold my hands down," Emma counters with another chuckle.

"I think I can manage," Regina replies, slipping a thigh between her legs and bringing a welcome pressure against her sex. Emma's mouth falls open in a moan as teeth nip at her jaw, and a chuckle vibrates through her when she bucks at a particularly sharp bite just beneath her ear. "Too much?"

"Not even close."

Regina pulls back, eyes devouring her whole as they darken. "Oh I am definitely going to be testing that when we have more time," she promises, her grin downright malicious as Emma shivers and hopes that time comes soon.

"For now," Regina continues and releases her hands, shifting backwards to settle between her legs. "Hard and fast will have to suffice."

Emma feels her throat seize at the sudden intrusion of fingers driving into her; forcing thought from her mind and the breath from her lungs in an instant as she grips the pillow under her with both hands. Regina smirks, eyes drawn to the stretch of her stomach as she thrusts down, impaling herself over and over again.

She shudders, whimpering when Regina bows her head and sinks teeth into her thigh, applying a pressure that borders the edge of pain before she curls her fingers and presses a thumb to her clit. Emma swallows, her mouth dry as Regina seems to be trying to draw every ounce of moisture from her body to pool between her thighs; pushing, rubbing, circling the stiff little nub.

A groan, buried deep within her chest bursts forth the second Regina lets go of her thigh and her release is swift, spurred on by the rush of blood to what Emma knows will be a bruise come tomorrow morning.

“Jesus,” she croaks, chest heaving in time with her breaths as she glances down, and laughs at the look of smug satisfaction staring back at her. “That pleased with yourself, huh?”

“Well,” Regina drawls, eyes bright as she crawls her way back up and lies on top of her, lips grazing her chin as she murmurs, “Even you have to admit that I am a woman of my word.”

“You did say hard and fast,” Emma concedes with a smile, taking the time to savor the feel of their bodies pressed together before reality comes crashing down and they both register the sound of movement from somewhere inside the house.

At her sigh, Regina offers a look of sympathy but is already rising from the bed and looking about for her clothes. Emma points to the chaise lounge behind her as she stands too, capturing her hand before Regina can move too far away and drawing her in for one last kiss.

“I guess I should be heading home now...”

“Stay,” Regina insists, a hand on her chest, their lips brushing as she speaks. “Emma, I…” She shakes her head, letting the thought go unfinished as she changes direction. “We should spend the day together—the three of us. Let me get dressed and I’ll make us something for lunch. Maybe we can have a picnic...”

She trails off and Emma searches her face, sensing that she’s missing something but unsure as to what that something might be. “Sure,” she acquiesces with a nod after a moment, curious—determined to figure out what it is, but also happy that Regina isn’t tired of her yet. “A picnic sounds great.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

"I think I can understand Rumple a little more now than I did before."

Regina pauses mid-slice at the words and looks up, brow raised. Emma hasn't spoken since she dragged her down stairs, and that her first words are about understanding the imp is surprising, to say the least. "Oh?"

Emma’s expression is sheepish, as though she hadn't meant to say it out loud but it's too late now and Regina smiles, shaking her head at the thought that runs through her mind when Emma scratches the side of her nose. It is adorable, and the fact she knows Emma well enough to know it is a purely nervous habit only causes her affection for the woman to grow even deeper.

"Well yeah," she says as Regina resumes preparing their lunch. "I mean, if you had this thing inside of you that punishes you every time you do something good, you'd be a little more… resistant to the idea of heroism, right?"

And. _Well_. Emma certainly has a point, but then magic has always been like that. It isn't simply the Dark One, but magic itself that decides the price it takes and, good or bad, there is always a price. Light magic is subtle in that it will sap your strength, but if you use enough of it, even it can kill you. "If what Rumple said is true, I think you'll find that has more to do with the fact you removed a curse you yourself cast."

Emma hums and reaches across the counter. Regina considers slapping her hand and reminding her the food is for their picnic, but she dismisses the idea after little thought. Considering the junk she usually finds Emma shoveling in to her mouth, her willingness to eat a slice of tomato is rather refreshing.

"Be a dear and go see if our son is fit for outside interaction," she says, moving to the sink and washing the juices from the knife before she returns to the counter. Emma stands, flashing a grin and being her usual smart ass self as she files off a salute that has Regina rolling her eyes at her back.

When Emma is out of earshot, Regina sighs and her shoulders slump. As much as she enjoyed their time together in the bedroom, the moment has taken a backseat to her current dilemma. Henry refuses to speak to her. She knew the risks involved when she decided to use him to wake Emma, but that didn't make it any easier now that what she expected is exactly what she's getting.

The second she realized he was giving her the silent treatment, she wanted to yell at him. It had only been a few hours since Emma appeared in her bedroom, and between making sure he would be safely out of the way and figuring out what exactly happened to Emma, it wasn't as if she'd had the time to sit down and explain it to him.

If he were anyone else, she would have done just that but, then again, she doesn't have a problem with lying to others, now does she? And that is exactly what that is; a lie. True, not much time has passed but lack of time isn't the reason she didn't tell him. She knows him as well as she knows Emma and if past experience has taught her anything, it is that people tend to blow things way out of proportion—her son, especially.

The reason she didn't tell him is because he would have worried, and the potential for his grandparents finding out in those circumstances would have skyrocketed dramatically. Regardless of what the Charmings or anyone else believe, the truth of the matter is that she is far more capable without their help and if that means her son giving her the cold shoulder for however long it lasts, then that is a risk she had been willing to take.

Still. She can't help but be disappointed. Henry is always claiming to believe in her and, if anything, she has proved that belief isn't misplaced after solving the mystery the day it happened. Emma had been cursed for maybe three hours before Henry woke her. How long might it have taken had she told anyone else? How much blame would she have had to endure before anyone realized placing fault with her wasn't helping to solve the situation?

Regina groans as the thoughts continue to harass her. It is that goddamn charming influence that has turned her son against her, again. She knows she can’t do a thing to change it, not without making it worse than it is, and she definitely doesn’t want that.So why won’t they leave her alone?Emma is awake, the Charmings are unaware and despite his penchant for temper tantrums, Henry will get over the fact she’d kept something from him.

In an effort to force the thoughts from her mind and enjoy the next couple of hours she gets to spend with Emma and their son, she shakes her head and redoubles her focus on preparing lunch.

For someone as stubborn as she, she should have known it wouldn’t be such a simple task. As she finishes packing the last of the sandwiches she’d made, she turns toward the fridge in search of drinks and instead of worries about her son, her mind begins reminiscing on her earlier activities with Emma in the bedroom, and the possible complications that may arise from it.

She curses her brain and the direction its taken, only to realize she’s spoken the swear out loud when a laugh greets her from across the room. She spins on her heel, eyes wide to find Henry standing at the counter and Emma grinning at her from the doorway.

“Pretend you didn’t hear that kid,” Emma says, moving into the room and ruffling his hair as she passes.

Regina glances between them, and her eyes narrow as she notes the state of her son. “What on earth happened to you?”

Henry looks up from where he rummages through the picnic basket and follows her gaze. He glances down at himself and his cheeks are flush when he meets her eyes again. “I fell asleep,” he explains, shooting a glare at Emma whose grin has only grown.

While his explanation covers the creases in his clothes, it doesn’t explain why he appears as though someone has doused his head with a bucket of water. “And your hair is wet because,” she prompts, patient.

He sighs. “I told her to go away and it started raining,” he mutters, still glaring at Emma.

Regina turns to stare at his other mother and finds herself holding in a laugh when Emma stares back, her expression that of innocence but with a look of amusement clear in her eyes. She allows a moment to pass and manages to muster up a glare of her own as she questions, “You made it rain inside my house?”

Emma tilts her head, squinting slightly. “I cleaned it up,” she offers, voice full with uncertainty.

Regina rolls her eyes. “Well I suppose that makes it okay then,” she drawls sarcastically and Emma shrugs.

“I thought so.”

Head shaking, Regina opens the fridge and grabs the box of root beer from the shelf. “What am I going to do with you,” she asks, bumping the door closed with her hip when she turns.

Seeing Henry no longer in the room, and taking note of the fact Emma is now standing a few inches in front of her, she freezes. “I have a few suggestions,” Emma grins, taking another step closer. “Though I don’t think we’ll have the time to go through them all.”

Regina swallows as every nerve in her body lights up in anticipation. “Emma,” she murmurs in warning, helpless to stop whatever is about to happen as Emma takes the box from her hands and places it on the counter before erasing what little distance remained between them.

“What?” Emma smiles, her voice low and teasing as she leans in, hands capturing hips. “Aren’t you curious,” she pouts the question and Regina groans, so far beyond curious that it's almost painful.

“My…” Regina struggles to speak, finding it difficult to think of words let alone say them as her entire view seems to dim until Emma’s lips and the warm, tempting puffs of breath against her mouth are the only things in the world that matter anymore.

“My curiosity,” she tries again, forcing the words out as her eyes glue themselves to the soft, pink pout and arousal stirs in the pit of her stomach. “Isn’t the problem, Miss Swan.”

Emma grins knowingly and kisses her, pulling their bodies flush. Regina sighs and surrenders herself to the moment, feeling the love and desire that Emma pours into the kiss as it enters her chest and threatens to overwhelm her. “Emma,” she attempts to warn her again but this time her name sounds more like a breathless plea than any kind of discouragement.

“I love hearing you say my name like that,” Emma says, trailing lips over her cheek and whispering the words into her ear. She then steps back and Regina closes her eyes, inhaling deeply through her nose as she tries to regain her breath before she feels the hand in her own and snaps them open.

“Come on,” Emma urges with a small smile and gentle tug. “You promised me a picnic.”

* * *

 

“Uh mom, what are we doing?”

It started to rain almost as soon as Regina pulled up to the curb and she was about to turn the car around when Emma placed a hand on her arm. “Ask your mother,” she replies with a glance to her son in the rear view mirror. She doesn’t know why he’s talking to her now, but she won’t question it… yet.

Henry stares blankly in response and despite the twitch of lips that she knows means he is messing with her, she clarifies with a sigh. “Your other mother.”

“Ma?”

“We came all this way,” Emma says and shoves open her door. “Don’t tell me the Mills are going to let a little rain stop them from enjoying the day.”

Regina scowls as the door slams shut but her ire is short lived as she watches, shaking her head in exasperation, as Emma practically skips around the front of the car. She is all but soaked by the time she reaches Regina’s side, but there is a look of absolute childish glee on her face that it’s obvious she doesn’t care and Regina can’t help but fall in love with her all over again.

Not for the first time, she catches herself wondering how the hell this woman is the vessel of a centuries old evil before she feels the jolt of her seat and her attention is drawn back into the car. Henry has wedged himself between the driver and passenger seat, and is leaning over her to see out her window where Emma remains, arm outstretched towards the middle of the park.

“Is that a gazebo?”

“I think so,” she murmurs, breath catching in her throat. It is either the most romantic, or the least responsible thing she has ever seen Emma Swan do with her magic; possibly both.

As the large wooden structure finishes materializing beside the pond, Emma turns back to them with a wink and flicks her wrist, an umbrella appearing in her hand as she opens the door. “Move kid,” she says and when he does, she offers Regina her hand, another of those bright smiles lighting up her face when Regina accepts. “What do you think?”

 _You’re an idiot_ , is her first thought and Regina smiles to herself as she meets that hopeful gaze. “Well. You don’t have a permit, for one,” she says instead, grinning as Emma rolls her eyes. “And that every time I think I can’t possibly love you more, you go and prove me wrong.”

Emma shrugs and releases her hand, conjuring another umbrella that she passes to Henry as he climbs out of the car. “It’s a gift.”

“A rather annoying one if you ask me,” Regina mutters, feigning irritation that can’t possibly last as an arm slips around her waist and she realizes Emma is completely dry again. She burrows into her side and follows Henry with her eyes, frowning as he retrieves their picnic basket from the trunk. “I don’t like being wrong, Miss Swan.”

Emma kisses her temple and leads them over to her creation. “I’ll do my best to ensure it’s a rare occurrence,” she promises with a chuckle, the sound filling Regina with warmth despite the growing chill in the air.

Closer now, she can see the small stone pit embedded into the center of the gazebo’s floor and as they ascend stairs, she notices the three padded benches protruding from the walls to surround the pit. It isn’t until they step under the roof that she no longer feels the wind and she straightens, pulling from Emma’s embrace.

Of all the spells she has learned and experienced over the years, this is one she’s never seen before. She reaches between the pillars, wondering if it is simply a trick of light that she can’t see the barrier, but her hand goes through and returns dripping wet. “How did you block it out,” she asks, turning back to Emma who has since taken up residence on one of the benches, arms spread out along the wall.

“A simple protection ward,” Emma replies, shoulders rising in a shrug. “Apparently the Dark One’s before me spent a lot of time camping, or something. One of them decided they didn’t like getting wet, I guess.”

Regina chews her lip thoughtfully; always curious, always wanting to know more about things she doesn’t quite understand but wants to. “Do you have all of their memories?”

“Kind of?” Emma shakes her head as Henry enters behind Regina with an exclamation of cool before Emma beckons him to her with the crook of a finger. “It isn’t like I’m remembering their every moment every second of the day. Things… come to me as they become… relevant, I suppose.”

Regina nods in understanding, glad she isn’t being overwhelmed by the former dark ones. The mere thought of having all those memories and different personalities in her head is enough to horrify her, she can’t imagine what it might be like were Emma expected to endure them all at once, all of the time.

Taking a seat next to her, she leans back into the arm that curls around her shoulder and observes the way that Henry silently unpacks their lunch. He doesn’t look at either of them, not once, before he moves to the bench across from them, a sandwich in one hand and a comic in the other, and her frown returns.

“Is he…”

There is something wrong with him, she is certain of it, and it has to be more than the simple fact she’d kept something from him. He seems almost docile and she feels herself stiffen as a thought occurs to her; Emma did something to him. It would explain why he was suddenly talking to her only an hour after avoiding her attempts to explain why she didn’t tell him about Emma sooner. She has to have done something in the time they were upstairs and, oh god, if it is what Regina thinks then she’s going to be sick.

“Please tell me you didn’t,” she murmurs, voice cracking as a confusing sense of shame fills her the moment the words leave her mouth.

Emma turns her head and stares at her, face contorting in confusion. “What are you…” She sucks in a breath as comprehension dawns and confusion becomes anger. “Christ, seriously? We talked for shit sakes.”

Regina blinks, suddenly understanding the feeling. The shame is for thinking Emma would do such an unforgivable thing, not that she might be in love with someone capable of taking and controlling her own son’s heart. “So much for trusting me,” Emma scowls, vanishing before she can think to stop her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Henry isn't the only one with something wrong with him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All better. I think.

"Emma?" Regina calls for her as she steps inside the house, concerned to find the front door ajar. She'd sent Henry back to his grandparents, wishing she'd done it sooner so she could have avoided this whole situation. She feels awful for thinking what she had, more so that she'd dared voice the thought. She doesn't even know why she thought it, but she had, and she knows she has to make it right.

Walking into the living room, her heart sinks at the mess she finds. What had once been furniture is strewn throughout the room, mostly in splinters. The walls appear as though they've been used for target practice; bits of what look to be granite fixed within the less than shallow holes, and if she didn't know better, she'd assume the cracks in the floor were caused by an earthquake.

How much anger must Emma hide to have done all this in such a short amount of time? This is her home, and she has destroyed it all because of a stupid mistake.

Regina sinks to the floor, wet eyes falling on a picture frame that lies a few feet from where she lands. There is a photo of her and Henry she's never seen before beneath the broken glass and she crawls forward, ignoring the debris that pierces her hands and knees as she reaches for it. She recognizes the moment instantly, and wonders how she hadn't noticed the person taking it.

It can't have been Emma, of that she is certain. No matter when or where, and no matter the feelings she had for her at the time, she has always—always noticed Emma.

Staring down at it, she swallows thickly. It was the night she brought Emma and Snow back from the Enchanted Forest, her smile the first genuine one she'd shared with her son since the curse had broken. She can still remember the pride in his eyes and the feeling of his arms around her neck as he'd thanked her for saving his ma. It had also been the first night she'd heard him call Emma that, and she remembers it was then she'd finally accepted the fact that she wasn't his only mother anymore.

It never, in a million years, would have occurred to her that she would one day fall so deeply in love with the woman but that acceptance had felt like a monumental step in the right direction at the time. At least until her mother made an appearance and she was suddenly being accused of murder, the hurt and betrayal on Emma's face forever imprinted on her mind.

How Emma can return her feelings, she'll never understand. She'd been wrongly accused of course, but she did join forces with her mother afterward and that is something she'll never forgive herself for. How often has she spiralled, only to have Emma right there, ready to set her back on the right path with a little understanding and a lot of forgiveness?

Regina sighs, conjuring the photo to her hand and tossing the frame aside. It has been almost three years since that night, and yet Emma has held onto it for all this time. How long has Emma been in love with her? Was it love then, or did she simply like the look of them together? Henry may not share her genes, but there is no denying the similarities they share in both looks and mannerisms.

Slipping the photo into the inner pocket of her coat, she gingerly rises from the floor and glances around at the mess. This is her fault. Emma obviously isn't here and she doesn't know when she might return so the two of them can talk, but this is something she can fix in the meantime. It might not mean much to anyone else, but hopefully it'll mean something to Emma, to the little girl still inside of her who yearns to find a place she belongs, who might still believe her life here is nothing more than a dream too good to be true and that she might soon wake up to find all of it gone.

Emma clearly needs space and if that means she needs to extend a little of the trust she claims to have, then Regina will await her return to a home in better condition than the one she left.

With a deep breath, she concentrates on bringing her magic to the surface and smiles, the quirk of her lips faint but there as the tips of her fingers begin to tingle. She repairs the walls and floor first, watching them knit themselves back together with barely any effort at all before she closes her eyes and pulls from the memory the room in which she and Emma have had so many of their talks. She pauses to question if that is the reason Emma had chosen to destroy this room, or if it is simply where Emma appeared before unleashing her anger, and then shakes the thought from her head.

Reason matters little. She knows why Emma destroyed the room. Maybe not the exact details, but enough to know she'd hurt her. Enough to know Emma is angry at her, rightfully so, and that is what matters most.

Love is not the weakness her mother claimed it was but, she muses to herself; it certainly is the stupidity those of this world believe it to be. She knows, deep down, exactly why she would accuse Emma of such a horrible thing and it has nothing to do with trust.

She is determined, now more than ever, to make sure Emma knows the truth. She has doubts. After a lifetime of thinking she was unworthy of love and that no one could ever possibly care for her, she doesn't think anyone can blame her for that, but it is time she stops using those doubts to sabotage the good things in life that happen to her.

It is time for her to stop listening to her inner voice, to stop blaming fate for every bad thing she has had to endure. She is the reason the things that are right become wrong, She has allowed the actions of others to dictate her choices for too long, and she is done letting love slip between her fingers out of fear that it will be taken from her.

That is assuming, of course, Emma hasn't given up on her already.

Regina growls, mentally stamping down on the thought. If there is one thing she knows for certain, it is that Emma doesn't give up. Not then, and not now. Emma is a fighter, and it will be a cold day in hell before she thinks so little of her.

There is no telling how long it is before she senses another presence in the house. She has never understood Emma's blatant refusal to install clocks in her home, but she immediately knows it is Emma. There is something about her, about them that calls to something deep inside of her. Maybe it is the love they share, or perhaps it is the connection of family that has existed between them ever since that first night.

Whatever it is, she would know that presence—those eyes she feels burrowing beneath her skin, and she needs to know one thing. "Why would you do this," she asks. "This is your home, you should have taken it out on me."

* * *

Emma doesn't respond. Not right away. She is shocked to see Regina, to see the chaos she'd left behind gone. It is like a game of spot the difference, only the differences are so minute that only someone who has spent hours analyzing the layout of the room would see them. She has, and she does, but it isn't as though she's going to point them out, not when she has first-hand experience of just how exhausting it must have been for Regina to exert such effort in putting it all back together again.

"This isn't my home," she says, sensing the eyes now on her as she leans against the door frame, head resting uncomfortably against wood.

There are so many thoughts going through her head that she isn't sure how she's meant to react to being close to Regina again so soon, but this—her home and knowing how she feels, despite the anger and doubts she hasn't quite worked through yet. This—this is simple; an undeniable fact she has accepted from day one.

"Emma…"

"No," she sighs, wanting to explain. "You don't understand; this is just a house, a roof over my head, somewhere to go when I have nowhere else. You're my home, Regina. You and Henry, you always have been and that is why I will never, ever take my anger out on you—either of you."

Regina looks away, shame clouding her expression. "I am so sorry, Emma, I don't know why I—"

Emma interrupts with a humourless snort. "Yes you do," she says. "We both know why you said it. You think I don't understand wanting to push people away, Regina? I am literally the least committed person I know. You think I haven't thought about running? That I haven't thought about pretending that either of us are something we're not, so I can pack up and just leave?"

Regina slumps, dejected, voice little more than a whisper when she asks, "You have?"

"Of course I have. This, all of this terrifies me; I have friends, a son, parents—you. You terrify me, Regina." Chestnut eyes, wide with disbelief, snap from the floor to stare at her and a mouth gapes, open and closed as though words will simply flow from within when the time is right. Emma smiles softly and explains, "For the first time in my life, there is a chance I may actually be happy and I am so scared to lose that, that I was stupid enough to leave when I should have stayed."

This wasn't her plan. This is not the conversation she thought the two of them would have next. She needed reassurances, promises that Regina would try and be true to her word and trust her like she said she did. She had been so angry and ready to unleash hell, for once agreeing with what the darkness had whispered in her ear. Someone needed to suffer for the pain Regina had caused with her accusation, and yet, seeing her here and looking as though she is ready to sacrifice herself for exactly that is…a revelation.

"It was my fault, my doubts," Regina attempts to shoulder the blame but Emma shakes her head with every word uttered. She is proud of her and almost tempted to let her, but it would be a lie and one she has told for too long that she knows she needs to end it now before it's too late.

"You're not the only one with doubts and we know better than anyone that running away isn't the solution." Emma straightens then and steps into the room as she says, "I should have stayed and we should have talked, instead I fell back on my usual response and ran because I was hurt."

She takes another step and feels her heart squeeze at the tentative look of hope she can see forming behind the tears. "If there is to be any chance of us being together, of being happy and in love, and having the life we both dream of, then that can't happen anymore."

The last of the distance between them is swallowed up in a few short strides and she reaches for hips as Regina stumbles back in surprise. Emma catches her and tugs her close. "We both have to stop running, Regina."

"I don't know how to stop doubting my life or whether I deserve the good mixed in amongst all the bad," Regina confesses, lashes fluttering as Emma palms her cheek and brushes away the tears. "I have been a villain for too long, but I need you to know that I do trust you, Emma; more than I have ever trusted anyone."

She takes a breath, as if there is more, and Emma waits, patient. Planned or not, this has been a conversation in the making for a while now and she'd known it was only a matter of time. "I hate that I would even consider you capable of—"

"No," Emma interjects the second she realizes where exactly it is Regina's mind has taken her. "My control is… strenuous at best. I don't know what I'm capable of Regina and I understand how you could think that. This power inside of me terrifies me too, but I need you to believe that when it comes to you and Henry, there is nothing in the world that would ever make me hurt either one of you."

"He was so quiet."

"I should have told you we talked," she concedes. She'd wanted to make it right, not worse. Henry only needed time to process their conversation. "I noticed how he was behaving and… well, honestly, I didn't like it but… never. Regina, I would never lay a finger on him."

"And I know that. I do, but then I remembered what happened with Blue and my mind just…" Regina stops, chewing her lower lip in thought before she release a puff of breath and says, "You controlled me, Emma. I know why and I truly believe there is nothing to forgive, but sometimes I can't help wondering what else you might do in the name of protecting us."

Swallowing against the lump in her throat, Emma nods. Sometimes she wonders herself. After Arthur, after Robin—sometimes it feels as though there isn't anything she won't do to protect them, but the simple fact of the matter is; nothing aches more than the thought of doing something to hurt either of them, intentional or otherwise.

"There is still some good in me," she says, pressing a finger against dark lips. Regina has believed that longer than anyone, long before she ever did, she knows. "I know you know that, but do you also know what it means?"

Regina shakes her head and Emma smiles. "It means that no matter what—no matter how deep I might fall into the darkness, there will always be a part of me that recognizes the ones I love."

With lips against her forehead, Emma closes her eyes and breathes in the familiar warmth, her smile widening when she hears the content sigh. She places a kiss there before she pulls back, enough to see her face. "I still know right from wrong, Regina, I just don't always care."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up. I'm probably going to be busy for the foreseeable future (2 to 3 months, depending on choices I make during the week) starting Monday, so updates for... everything will likely be a lot slower. Sorry in advance, but I needed to get a life eventually ;)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The note I left in 13? Turns out my body is awesome, decided we weren’t doing that yet and thought I should be sick instead. Disregard until further notice, and totally feel free to build my hopes up with a get well never comment.

Emma stares blankly at the man before her while his words drone on in the background. She is starting to think Regina’s suggestion of asking Rumple for advice about dealing with her anger was a form of punishment for the way she behaved. She knows she is being childish, of course, but listening to him talk about the things he did as the Dark One when he was trying to fight the darkness rather than give in to it is just too much.

Spinning gold, reading, spending time with— well. The last one doesn’t seem so bad. Not spending time with Belle; that sounds as boring and likely includes a lot of the reading he mentioned earlier, but spending time with Regina. She likes spending time with Regina. Most of the time, at least. She could do without a repeat of the instance in the park, which she supposes is partly why she agreed to this in the first place.

Still; seeing Rumplestiltskin as a man in love rather than the creepy, manipulative pawnbroker with a thing for younger women is nauseating at best. Regina actually likes this version of him? Why?

“You’ve stopped listening,” Rumple comments with a roll of his eyes. “Why have you stopped listening?”

Emma screws up her face in disgust and replies, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because you were fawning over the bookworm and I started feeling sick. Seriously, what is wrong with you? What is wrong with Regina—this town, even? Is there something in the water that I don’t know about, or did you all just lose your minds when I wasn’t looking?”

He sighs. “We are trying to help you.”

“No, yeah I get that.” Emma shakes her head and says, “What I don’t get is why you’re bringing your love life into this. I am honestly waiting for the moment you mention sex so I have a passable excuse to throw something that hopefully injures you in the process.”

“Love is the most power—” he starts to explain, only for her to cut him off.

“Don’t start with that again,” she groans. It’s been an hour since she knocked on his door, and he’s said that same line at least ten times by now. “I know already. I love Regina, the silence is honestly the best thing in the world when I’m around her, but I can’t spend every waking moment of every day with her. She has a life, Rumple, and I’m not willing to buy her a library to lock her inside to keep her with me.”

There’s a flash of pain in his eyes before they narrow and—oh no. Guilt, she realizes, she—the Dark One feels guilt for speaking the truth! Ridiculous! “Oh hell,” she huffs in exasperation. “I’m sorry, alright? I was out of line, but I just… I can’t burden her any more than I already have.”

When he smirks, it’s obvious he played her but beyond her upper lip curling with a sneer, she lets it slide. Clearly there is still some of that dirty little imp in there after all, and she would much rather work with that than the lovesick puppy she’s been enduring this whole time. 

“You need a hobby, Miss Swan,” he says and she blinks, frowning. “I may have been a hallucination at the time, but what I said still holds true. You need to do something—something that requires no conscious effort on your part. The best way to fight the darkness is by not thinking about it. It won’t go away, but being able to turn your mind off at precisely the moment you start to lose it is the first step in learning to control it.”

She chews on the inside of her cheek. He had said—almost exactly that, now that she thinks about it but… “I thought you said the first step was in understanding my emotions and learning to control them.”

“Where is it you think emotions come from exactly?” He smiles when her only response is a stare and adds, “What you feel is simply an extension of what you think. If someone says something nice to you, you know it should make you happy, so your body responds appropriately; whether it is with a smile or a simple flutter in your chest.”

“If your emotions are all mental, then what the hell is the deal with people saying you can’t feel without a heart?”

His smile widens and he chuckles at the frustration in her voice. “The heart is merely the most responsive muscle in your body,” he explains with a shrug. “It amplifies what you feel because it is best attuned to what you think but it is still possible to feel without it.”

She remains quiet, deep in thought, and he continues. “I would suggest speaking with Cora about this but, for obvious reasons I cannot. Regina, however, has more experience than anyone I know when it comes to feeling while without her heart. Perhaps this is something you two might wish to discuss.”

Emma nods distractedly, only half listening as a sudden bubble of anger rises in her chest. “Personally, I’ve never seen the point in removing it unless it was to protect it from someone and even then, there are plenty of spells that don’t require…”

He trails off, rising from his chair as she stands. “Uh thanks for this,” she says, gesturing between them. She needs to see Regina before she can figure anything else out. “But I need to go now,” she adds and disappears in a puff of smoke.

* * *

 

“I suppose it was only a matter of time before I had to deal with idiot number two,” Regina drawls as David barges into her office. “Your wife was far more polite, in case you were wondering.”

He freezes, mere inches from her desk, eyes wide before his expression turns sheepish. Regina scowls as it reminds her of Emma, who happens to be idiot number three but also the woman she loves and whom she often tries to convince herself isn’t at all related to the imbecile standing in front of her, which is a lie currently failing her at this moment in time.

“What do you want, Charming?”

“Emma loves you,” he says and she frowns, wondering who the hell had told him that and why, of all the reactions he could have had that she’d be able to deal with, had he chosen awe? 

“Really,” she says, unwilling to reveal anything before he’s made his point and she can figure out what it is he hopes to accomplish.

He studies her expression and his own softens with each passing second before he eventually smiles. “Yes really.”

She sighs. Maybe him knowing isn’t as a bad as she would have thought. “Was that all, or is there something more obvious you’d like to point out before you leave?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “She never told us.”

Regina shrugs and questions, “Why would she? She’s a grown woman and quite frankly, it’s none of your business unless she wants it to be.”

Henry, she has decided, is the likely culprit as she doesn’t think him or Snow are smart enough to have come to the conclusion on their own. She would have to speak to their son when he came home from school, remind him that he shouldn’t go around talking about other peoples lives—especially not Emma’s, and especially not with her parents who she’s still upset with.

“But don’t you see, Regina? True Love’s kiss!”

“Are you and your wife still harping on about that nonsense?”

“Nonsense?" He scowls. "You could save her.”

“While I won’t deny my love for your daughter, Charming, we have kissed plenty of times and she is still the Dark One.”

His face contorts with a grimace before what she’s said dawns on him and his mouth falls open. “Doesn’t that mean…”

“We’re not True Love,” she states, ignoring the pang in her chest. She likes to believe that they are, but whether they are or they aren’t, it doesn’t change the fact she can’t kiss the darkness out of Emma and he can’t know that his daughter doesn’t think of being the Dark One as a curse. 

“If you’re not then that means someone else is...” 

Resisting a scowl of her own, she sighs at his look of pity and rolls her eyes. “Yes, Charming, and for all any of us know, that someone is dead… or in another world… or hasn’t even been born yet,” she snipes, angry at the thought of him running all over town trying to find someone who’ll kiss the goodness back into his daughter because he is an idiot and it is exactly the kind of thing she can imagine him doing. 

His protest dies on the tip of his tongue when she adds, “Perhaps she will live for another thousand years, and only then will she find the one to break her curse,” as the door to her office opens, and Emma walks in.

“Funny,” she says, surprising them both when only curiosity accompanies her words. “I’ve never considered the immortality side of it until now.”

Regina purses her lips, hoping to whoever happens to be listening that Emma isn’t about to say what she thinks she is before— “Just another bonus to being the Dark One, I guess,” —Emma does just that.

David blanches and Regina shakes her head, dropping it into her hands as she props elbows on her desk. “Bonus,” David repeats, the word laced with confusion. “Emma what—”

“Acceptance, dad,” Emma replies and Regina spreads her fingers to glance between them, brow furrowing as the words lack the anger she’d been expecting. “What did you think I’d be doing as the Dark One? Brooding about how bad my life is because I’m suddenly the most powerful being alive? You really need to get over yourself.”

As David gapes like a fish out of water, Emma turns and walks over to her. Regina lets her hands fall away from her face and smiles as a kiss is pressed to her cheek before Emma murmurs, “Hi.”

“Hi,” she whispers, warmth spreading throughout her body.

“He isn’t harassing you, is he,” Emma questions, jerking her head toward Charming.

Regina glances over at him and chuckles at the suspicion in his eyes as he watches them both. She shakes her head. “Not exactly. Our son has apparently let slip our feelings for one another. Your father is… surprisingly accepting for someone who once wanted me dead.”

Having spoke loud enough for him to hear, David asks, “How do you know Henry told us?”

“Because you’re both dense,” Emma drawls and Regina snorts, covering her mouth when she winks at her. Emma straightens, placing a hand on her shoulder as she looks to her father. 

“I am in love with Regina and she is in love with me,” she states, allowing no room for his response as her voice hardens. “Nothing beyond that matters, and if either of you ever want me to forgive you, you’ll both accept that and accept me because like it or not, the darkness isn’t going anywhere… and she still makes me happy.”

Regina grins as the words wash over her and she covers the hand on her shoulder, squeezing when Emma glances down at her. “You make me happy too,” she says and Emma smiles, genuine and so so bright that her heart soars in response. “More than anything.”

David clears his throat after a moment and their eyes snap to him in tandem. “I…” He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand this, but if you’re happy—”

“I am,” Emma interrupts him with the assurance and he nods.

“What kind of father would I be to interfere with that then,” he questions, smiling softly. “I’ll let your mother know what you’ve said and… I guess I’ve taken up enough of your time, Madam Mayor.”

“If by enough, you mean my whole lunch hour, then yes,” Regina deadpans, stomach clenching at the reminder as she leans her head against Emma’s arm.

David flashes a crooked grin and offers a somewhat sincere, “Sorry,” before he nods once and turns to leave. He pauses at the door and glances over his shoulder. “Would you like me to grab you both something from the diner?”

“No,” Emma answers before Regina can even consider it. “I’m taking her home for lunch.”

“You are?” Emma nods and Regina smiles, looking back to David as she says, “Your daughter seems to have made plans, but thank you for the thought.”

“No problem,” he chuckles, waving back at them over his shoulder as he leaves the office.

“Your father is an idiot,” she informs the blonde, turning and barely holding in a gasp when she sees Emma bent over, mere inches from her face. 

Before she can ask what exactly it is she’s doing, Emma captures her lips in a kiss. Regina sinks into it, surprised but more than happy to welcome the tongue that slips inside her mouth as she parts her lips with a moan. She clutches Emma to her, one hand fisting in her jacket while the other threads through curls.

“That went better than expected,” Emma says, breaking the kiss with a breathless chuckle. 

Regina smirks and pulls her back in, not quite finished with her mouth. “Take me home,” she murmurs and reconnects their lips, skin buzzing as Emma’s magic gathers them up and whisks them from the office.

* * *

 

They reappear and Regina opens one eye, seeing that they’re in the den before she closes it again and urges Emma back toward the couch, never once leaving those lips. “Wait,” Emma gasps as the back of her legs hit the cushion and she stumbles, falling back with Regina falling right along with her.

They land with a soft thud and Regina shakes her head as she straddles her lap, hands sliding inside her jacket and cupping her breasts. She kneads the handfuls of flesh through the fabric of her shirt and Emma moans, back arching as she stretches her neck. Regina lowers her mouth to suck the skin of her throat, fingers pinching and rubbing the quickly hardening buds between them.

“Jesus,” Emma groans, squirming. “If this is my reward for not strangling my father, I’m resisting every urge I have for the rest of my life.”

Regina straightens with a frown and says, “This isn’t a reward,” and then, “You wanted to strangle your father?”

Emma shrugs, as if the desire to do is the most normal thing in the world and; okay, for Regina it is but for Emma, it shouldn’t be. “From what I gathered when I walked in, he’d been babbling about true love’s kiss and trying to save me so... yeah, I wanted to strangle him.”

“And you resisted,” Regina realizes out loud.

“What, like it’s hard?” Regina stares down at her, speechless, as she tries to figure out if Emma is serious, and Emma laughs. “Your face right now.”

Regina slaps her chest, forgetting where exactly her hands are in that moment. Emma grins, eyebrow rising, tone teasing as she drawls, “That wasn’t.”

It doesn’t dawn on Regina what she means until Emma is suddenly flipping her onto her back, eyes dark as she hovers above her, and she swallows. Her arousal is sharp and instant, stomach fluttering in anticipation. “Emma,” she groans, clenching her thighs around the knee that wedges between them.

“Regina,” is the throaty reply and she moans as Emma seizes her lips once more. 

Too impatient for an invitation, Emma forces her tongue into her mouth this time and Regina loses it, cupping the leather-clad ass with both hands as she pulls Emma down and grinds against her. They shouldn’t be doing this, not now. She doesn’t have the time and needs to go back to work, but for all the reasons she can think not to do it, her desire overshadows them all.

This past week of Emma bouncing back and forth between her house and home, they’ve done little more than kiss and she wants more. More time, more kisses, more Emma—just more everything.

“We have to be quick,” she gasps as Emma drags lips and tongue down to her collarbone, licking and sucking anywhere and everywhere there’s flesh before wet warmth descends into the crook where shoulder meets neck.

Sucking harshly at her pulse, Emma makes quick work of the buttons on her blouse and Regina whimpers as fingers slide into her bra. Emma tugs down on the cup and frees her breast from within before she pushes between them, sliding the hand under her skirt as she pulls a rapidly hardening nipple into her mouth with a pleased hum.

Fingers dance over lace, pressing, pushing, teasing until her panties are wet and her clit throbs, wanting—needing more. Regina rolls her hips, a whine building, clawing from her throat. “Emma,” she repeats, only this time it is a plea and isn’t ignored.

Emma slides down her body, mouth to flesh. Licking, sucking—biting a path from chest to hips. Her teeth sink in, deeper and deeper until blood is drawn and Regina cries out, senses overwhelmed by the scent and taste of vanilla as Emma sheathes two fingers inside of her. She feels as if she’s been set on fire and she arches into her mouth, thrusting down onto the fingers as Emma drives them in and out.

Her skirt goes the same as her panties and she spreads her legs, a guttural sound she’s never before heard falling from her lips as her eyes snap down to watch as Emma presses the flat of her tongue against her folds. Her chest heaves as she tangles a hand in Emma’s hair before she feels the tongue swipe through her slit and she moans, deep and long as Emma circles and flicks her clit with the tip.

It is both too much and not enough but before she can do or say anything, Emma sucks her clit into her mouth and Regina stiffens. She sobs, the sound escaping from her without conscious thought as she crests and the release tears through her.

“Oh god,” she moans, heat radiating from her as she writhes at the continued attention of Emma refusing to let up. “Emma… please. I can’t.”

Her hand falls to her side as Emma lifts her head and the hunger clears from her eyes, lower lip disappearing between teeth with a hum. “Still delicious,” she says with an obscene pop, and grins.

Regina laughs.

“I guess you’ve had your lunch then,” she says with a mock pout and the grin widens, almost wolfish somehow. “But where’s mine?”

“Don’t you have to go back to work,” Emma questions, brow raised as she attempts to pull away.

Regina shoots up from her back and lunges for her, shoving her down and straddling her hips as she growls, “Work can wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS; I know. I dedicated a whole chapter to smut like 3 pages back, but the muse was inspired and a certain someone (that fairy tale [asshole](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Archetype/pseuds/FairyTaleArchetypes)) encouraged her and… oh the pressure!
> 
> Kidding.
> 
> Kind of.
> 
> She encouraged it, but I also sorta live with a sex addict and I'm extremely whipped.
> 
> Not kidding.
> 
> At all.
> 
> Shhh.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another iffy chapter, and probably more gratuity than plot but it's fluffy and I seem to be in that kind of mood, so whatever.

When twenty four hours passed with neither sight nor sound of the intrusive Emma Swan, Regina didn't give it much thought. Henry mentioned seeing her at lunch earlier in the afternoon, and that was enough to relieve any concern she might have had about the lack of distractions due to random and oft times unnecessarily complicated appearances throughout her day.

After forty eight hours, the concern returned and with it came the distractions the day before were bereft of as, without fail, Regina glanced at the clock upon the hour, every waking hour until she fell into a restless sleep.

Three hours she'd slept last night, and she was not a happy camper this morning, afternoon or evening- much to the horror of the entire town.

At 11:03pm on this particularly tiresome day, Emma's absence has almost spanned three days and Regina sits at her desk in her study, glare firmly fixed to the clock above the mantle. She had tried calling. She had tried asking Emma's insipid parents, which proved to be the mistake she still regrets, deeply, to this very moment. She went to Rumple, who suggested Emma may have taken his advice, and then refused to tell her exactly what advice he was talking about before she stormed out of his shop, careful to slam the door as hard as possible, and feeling rather smug when the sound of a crash followed her perfectly mature exit.

Downing the remainder of scotch at the bottom of the glass she holds within an iron grip, Regina carefully lowers it to the desk and rises from her chair. If Emma doesn't have a suitable explanation for her absence, she is going to sorely wish she were lying half-dead in a ditch somewhere (an awful scenario gifted to Regina by her thoughts this afternoon) when Regina is finished with her.

Hands gliding down her front, Regina brushes the creases from her skirt before taking a deep, calming breath. Her arm snaps up and she flicks her wrist, a swirl of smoke gathering about her feet as she rolls her eyes at herself. She can take all the breaths in the world, but she won't be fooling anyone tonight, least of all the annoyingly observant former Sheriff.

The smoke clears and Regina appears in a darkened room. Hit with a sudden chill, she shivers violently and tears her (unfortunately) softened glare from the form huddled beneath covers to the wide open window across the room. She pads across the floor barefoot, an uncomfortable chatter starting to settle within her teeth before she reaches out and tugs the window closed.

Emma groans in her sleep and Regina spins on her heel, startled. She watches Emma throw the blankets from her body, her unconscious grumbling almost enough for Regina to forget she is annoyed at having been avoided for three days without explanation as a smile threatens her lips.

The part of her that isn't desperately clinging to her anger wants to awaken Emma and scold her for the simple fact the woman is completely naked. She is distracted by the expanse of skin revealed, however, struck by the increased paleness of fair skin beneath the glow of moonlight shining in through the window.

Regina bites her lip and inches closer, determined to cover her back up with at least one of the numerous blankets now piled on the floor. How Emma remains asleep is beyond her. It is freezing and she's half tempted to start a fire in the middle of the room, wooden floors be damned.

Emma did say this isn't her home, didn't she? What will she care if the house burns down? Regina shakes her head, exasperated with herself. Three glasses of scotch has obviously been too much for her.

Bending down and retrieving the thinnest blanket from the pile, she straightens. Years from now, she will swear she had a miniature heart attack upon finding those eyes open and staring right at her.

"What are you doing," Emma questions, the faint husk of her voice doing things to Regina she would really rather it wouldn't, as she is supposed to be mad at this woman for causing undue amounts of worry for what appears to be no reason at all.

"I could ask you the same thing," she retorts, ignoring the awkwardness that overcomes her with such a response as she focuses on her previous goal and drapes the blanket in her hands over the blonde. "You've been avoiding me."

Arms falling to her side, she stiffens at the brush of something against her hand before she glances down and relaxes. Emma sweeps the blanket aside and pulls her down, wrapping her in an embrace. She sighs, slowly losing her grip on the ire that has plagued her for the better part of two days as lips press to her skin and Emma kisses her neck.

Silence reigns and in mere minutes she feels herself falling asleep, lulled by the warmth and comfort she has come to associate with having Emma close by. She tries to fight it and mostly succeeds, eyes hooded and almost shut but with enough awareness left to give a pleased little hum when a hand slides underneath her shirt and across her stomach.

"I wasn't," Emma murmurs into the crook of her neck, thumb dipping below the waistband of her skirt to stroke the skin of her hip. "I didn't want you to think I was being clingy."

Regina blinks her eyes open, brow furrowing. The idea of Emma being clingy is laughable at worst, and surprisingly endearing at best. If either of them have a habit of holding on too tight, Regina thinks, it is most definitely her. Love and everything that comes with it are like a drug to her- an addiction that can never truly be sated, demanding more and more until the people around her grow tired and decide she wants too much from them.

Dear gods, if Emma has learned anything in the all the years they've known each other, surely it would've been that.

Swatting the hand at her hip away, she turns until she's facing Emma who meets her gaze calmly, arm still at her waist and pulling her back across the distance she'd created with all her twisting and turning. The move causes her skirt to ride up and Regina scowls at the discomfort, bringing her hand up and discarding her outer layer of clothes with a simple gesture.

Emma's lips quirk and Regina flinches, blinded by the sudden assault of light in her eyes. Lashes fluttering, she looks up to the source and tries not to laugh at the three images presented to her on the ceiling; eye, heart, ewe. "Cute," she drawls, letting her amusement show as she returns her attention to a smile that widens in response. "Cheesy and sickeningly sweet, but cute."

The light dims, bright enough for them to see one another clearly but no longer intrusive. Emma nudges her nose with her own and mutters, "It's only going to get worse."

Regina nudges her back, chuckling. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Miss Swan," she says. "I fell in love with cute."

Bright. Bright. Bright is all she can see before Emma kisses her and she feels herself melt. All the tension in her body evaporates, helpless to resist those soft- soft and warm lips, temptation and promise all rolled into one. She sinks deeper and deeper, getting lost in the sudden desire she has to have- to possess, hands reaching, touching, stroking.

She frowns, drawn from lips by the dampness of skin as she flexes her fingers against Emma's back. Emma attempts to roll away but Regina tightens her hold, confusion mounting as concern rears its ugly head once more. "What aren't you telling me?"

Emma refuses to look at her, staring somewhere between chin and collarbone as she chews the inside of her cheek. Regina studies her face, finally noticing the dark circles under her eyes as she wonders how she'd missed them to begin with. Her anger sparks anew with the thought Emma might have lied to her but she shakes it off, willing to give her the benefit of the doubt as she continues to take in all the little differences since they last saw each other.

The longer she stares, the more tired Emma seems and before too long, all Regina feels is sympathy. Her own sleep schedule has been sorely lacking ever since Emma decided one night last week to return to her own house and her own bed. She manages a few hours each night, not quite as many as she is accustomed but enough to only need the smallest touch up of makeup to cover the damage.

Emma looks as if she hasn't slept a wink since, but that can't be true. She'd been sleeping when Regina arrived, hadn't she?

Eventually, Emma sighs and Regina jerks from her thoughts, ready to demand answers now that her worry has reached an all-time high- this is why she should never be allowed the time to think about things. Emma silences her before she can even get the words out with a quick kiss, and smiles at her huff of annoyance.

"I got used to not hearing them," Emma says and at her frown, elaborates. "The voices. When I'm around you, it is so quiet that I don't want to leave but… I can't be around you all the time."

Surprise, confusion, anger- always anger. Regina struggles to decide which she wants to express, feeling the range of emotions appear on her face, one after the other. It is minutes before she comes to a decision and Emma is silent the entire time, letting her process the words without interruption.

In the end it is a combination of all three as her less desirable side makes an appearance; petulance. "Why," she asks, a slight whine to her voice that she loathes but knows she has no control over. She wants Emma around, certainly a lot more than she has been lately.

If she didn't, she'd simply magic her to the town line and demand she walk back for a little peace.

"I didn't ask for space," she states, interrupting before Emma can reply. "If I wanted space, I would tell you. We don't even spend that much time together. Why would you put yourself through that when I never asked you to?"

"Because I didn't think you would," Emma murmurs and Regina scowls.

She wouldn't and that Emma can sense the lie without confronting the situation itself is absolutely maddening. She never used to be this predictable and she can't even be mad at Emma for taking a choice away from her because then she'd be doing the exact same thing. How many more discussions are they going to need to have for conversations like this to no longer blindside her?

"It doesn't matter," she says finally, pressing a finger to lips that part in protest. "If being near me helps you, then I want to help. I might have promised not to save you anymore, but I love you, Emma and I care about your well being. If that means working from home, cooking for three and inviting you to come and live with me then-"

Trailing off as emerald eyes widen, Regina frowns again and goes over everything she's said in her head. It dawns on her that perhaps she's been a little too quick in regards to their relationship, but surely Emma can't expect her to overlook something simply because it goes against the silly expectations society has of them. She wants to help. She wants to be there for Emma, and she wants Emma to be there for her and while some might see it as them moving too fast, she really doesn't see how that is anyone's business but their own.

"I wasn't proposing," she drawls teasingly, happy to see the corners of a mouth twitch with the beginnings of a smile.

"I wouldn't have said no," Emma replies, laughing when Regina's mouth falls open, speech eluding her in favour of the choked gasp that slips free.

Regina settles for slapping her chest, eyes dropping with the reminder that Emma is naked as a stiffness pushes into her palm. Her hand is miles ahead of her brain and she watches as her fingers curl around a breast of their own accord.

Emma moans as she squeezes, and then leans in, her breath tickling Regina's cheek. "But I must admit," she purrs, nibbling the lobe of her ear. "I do enjoy living with you in sin."

* * *

Panting, Emma sinks into the mattress. She lies on her stomach, head and arms dangling over the edge of the bed where she stares down at the pretty red lace bra she remembers throwing over her shoulder hours earlier. Her smile saps the last of her strength and she sighs, exhausted as she closes her eyes and a weight settles firmly on her back and thighs.

Regina kisses her shoulder, a hand lovingly stroking her back. Emma hums her contentment, never too tired to revel in such attention from the woman she loves.

It had been a mistake, she realized, to try and force this distance between them.

A balance had been struck and she'd interfered when she tried to give Regina space. Too much time apart and the darkness would rear its head, tormenting her at every turn, whispering its desires to her as if they were her own. Regina is her light- her eye in a raging storm that threatens to overtake her at any moment.

"I love you."

"Mmm." Regina brushes her hair aside, mouthing the damp flesh of her neck and Emma shudders as a bubble of laughter builds in her chest.

"You're insatiable," she murmurs, rolling on to her back.

Regina grins and props herself up on an elbow, head in the palm of her hand as she draws random patterns on Emma's skin. "That's the first time I've heard you complain."

Emma shakes her head. "Wasn't a complaint," she denies, eyes drifting down to the fingers skittering across her stomach. Her arousal simmers beneath the surface, never truly dissipating, encouraged by the continued touch.

She could sleep now. She could sleep for a week but Regina is here, Regina is touching her and she doesn't want to. Emma captures the wandering hand as it inches closer to where she knows moist heat will welcome its return, entwining their fingers as she releases another, deeper sigh.

Regina slides forward and bows her head, lips trailing the length of her jaw. Emma turns her head and claims her mouth, tugging at the hand until Regina drops, her front pressing against Emma's side.

Emma embraces her, deepening the kiss as she nudges a knee. Regina slides a leg between hers and Emma threads them together, needing them as close as humanly possible. She basks in the silence, body thrumming whenever it's broken by a soft moan or whimper; a desperate plea for more more more.

"Stay with me," she whispers, not wanting but needing.

Regina understands. She nods- no words, no questions, just another kiss and the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth as she rests her head in the crook of Emma's neck and closes her eyes.

Always, she thinks.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scene 1: Mild, minuscule 'blink and you'll miss it" smidgen of angst, overwhelmed by a great big helping of sickening fluff and brief, tiny on detail smut.  
> Scene 2: Food. Fluff. More fluff. Tease. Fade to Black because I'm a dickhead.  
> Scene 3: Henry is a shit that we should all adore.

Emma stretches, arms and legs snapping taut as a yawn escapes her mouth. She pats the space beside her and her brow furrows, feeling warm sheets and little else as memories of earlier that morning fill her head. She draws in a deep breath and sighs as the scent of lavender invades her nose.

Regina is gone.

It takes her a while to catch up with the thought, eyes fluttering to stare up at the ceiling as a small ache settles in her chest. She huffs after a moment and rolls from the bed, glancing at the clock on her beside table before she rolls her eyes at herself. If she had to guess, and she hasn't really been left with much choice, she imagines Regina had gone home to wake Henry and get him ready for school-- it being almost 9 o'clock in the morning and all.

She tilts her head back and rolls her shoulders, testing her body. She aches in the best way possible and it brings a smile to her lips. Five hours was more sleep than she'd had in those three days without Regina combined, and the three hours beforehand certainly put her at ease. Regina was mad, but not mad enough to leave without telling her, or without reason.

Accepting her thoughts as truth for now, she shakes off the minor disappointment and makes her way toward the bathroom. She turns on the shower, running a hand through her hair as she waits for it to warm before she steps beneath the spray.

As the water pelts her body, she groans, closing her eyes. Head forward, she places a hand on the tiled wall and lets the shower do its magic, seeking out every little nook where tension resides and relaxing her muscles one by one.

After a few minutes, she straightens and reaches for the soap. The creak of a floorboard causes her to pause and she cocks her head to the side, listening-- wondering. Could she be so lucky? Had Regina returned? Surely no one in their little hamlet is stupid enough to invade the house of the Dark One, and in broad daylight no less.

The bathroom door opens and she hears the rustle of clothes being removed within seconds of it closing. She bites her lip and a tension of another kind infuses her limbs before a brief caress of cool air dances along her spine, and then... heat.

Beautiful, welcome heat in the form of a body pressing into her back and arms around her waist as a low, husky purr of, "Good morning," seeps into her ear and worms its way down into her chest where it ensnares her heart.

"Morning," she murmurs, unable to hide her pleased shiver.

"I had hoped you'd still be in bed when I returned."

Emma sucks in her lower lip as she considers the thought. There is nothing better than waking up to Regina in her arms but this-- this is good too. "Henry?"

"Mhmm." Regina hums, guiding a hand over her stomach to settle between breasts as she kisses her shoulder. "You didn't think I'd leave for good, did you?"

Emma smiles softly and rests her forehead against her arm. "It crossed my mind," she admits, unwilling to lie.

Regina caresses her chest and hip, fingers stroking a path to her collarbone, gliding up her throat to grasp her chin and tilt her head back. She groans as Regina forces her head to the side and devours her mouth, tightening the arm around her waist as she presses more firmly into her back.

"Never," Regina husks and Emma breathes a sigh, relieved-- excited.

Her head falls against a cheek as Regina release her chin and drags the hand back to her chest. Regina palms her breast, loosening the arm about her waist as she brings her other hand to the apex of thighs and slides fingers between wet folds.

Emma's eyes flutter shut and a moan rumbles in her chest, breath hitching as Regina strokes her clit.

"Emma..."

"Mmm?"

Regina nudges her nose and kisses the edge of her mouth. "Move in with me."

Emma forces her eyes open and lifts her head. 

"I can't stop thinking about it," Regina confesses, gazing at her with love and lust as she slides two fingers into her. "I don't want to have to keep wondering where you are or what you're doing because I miss you."

Emma hums, back arching as every word is followed by a hard thrust. How can Regina expect her to answer while she plays her body so well?

"Let me wake up to your beautiful face every day," Regina continues, the words little more than a breathless whisper. "Let the first thing I do be to kiss your lips and memorize every glorious inch of this perfect body."

Emma vibrates with every word and she squirms, the pleasure almost unbearable as Regina utters every wish-- every hope she has of their future together while guiding her toward an edge that threatens to consume her from head to toe.

Oh how had she not predicted this?

Regina plucks her every doubt, every insecurity and nightmare from her thoughts. She holds them by the throat with her words, squeezing and squeezing until there's nothing left. She crashes through every wall and pushes the darkness to the side, filling Emma with an abundance of love as she makes herself at home in the jagged crevices of her heart.

"I want everything," Regina purrs, fingers curling-- rubbing-- coaxing. "Your body. Your heart. Your soul. I want your pain and your happiness. Your darkness and your light. I want to love you but beyond all of that, I want to be loved by you because you, Emma Swan, are mine and there is nothing I won't do to keep you."

"Regina," Emma cries out as she finally reaches that edge, one hand reaching back over a shoulder to grasp Regina by the neck and hold on for dear life as her release pushes her right over.

* * *

 

Regina saunters into the bedroom carrying a tray full of food, the scent of bacon and coffee permeating the air. Emma stares, her tongue swiping across her lower lip as she can't help but tune everything out at the sight of her love, still naked as she brings her breakfast in bed.

Her luck seems to be a reoccurring thought this morning.

She waves her hand, the tray hovering where Regina once stood as she appears in Emma's lap. Regina gasps but the sound is soon replaced by a chuckle, muffled beneath the press of lips and brought about by the hands that immediately begin to roam her body.

Regina threads a hand through that golden mane, welcoming the tongue that slides into her mouth. The kiss is soft-- tentative and loving at first but it doesn't take long for it to heat up as teeth join in the fray. Emma nips at her lips, soothing every little sting she leaves behind with the stroke of her tongue and the gentle sucking of her mouth.

Regina squirms as a desire not long ago sated reignites low in her belly. She groans and tugs on the hair in her fist, breaking the kiss and tilting Emma's head back, dragging her mouth down a throat that bobs with a rough swallow as she bites down.

Hands pause their caresses against her back before they fall, fingers curling and clutching at hips as Emma releases a moan that sounds as music to her ears. Regina releases her grip and kisses her way back up to lips where she notices a smile that sends a burst of warmth straight to her chest.

"You are absolutely breathtaking," she murmurs and the smile widens.

Emma squeezes her hips before she darts forward and kisses her nose. "Starving too," she replies and Regina laughs.

"Perhaps you should have considered that before you distracted me."

Shoulders rise in a shrug. "I got what I wanted," Emma counters and in the blink of an eye, Regina finds herself sitting between thighs, her back against Emma's front with their breakfast now hovering in the air at eye level.

Smiling, she shakes her head and reaches for the tray, bringing it down into her lap before she grabs one of the mugs and holds it above her shoulder. "Thank you," Emma says and kisses the back of her head as she takes it from her.

For the duration of their meal, they're silent. Regina leans back against Emma, content to pass food over her shoulder every now and then-- sometimes using the fork she'd almost forgotten in her haste to return to the bedroom, but mostly using her fingers that Emma seems to enjoy far more than the actual food.

Not that it once crosses Regina's mind to complain. How can she while those lips are wrapped around her fingers and Emma's hums remind her of the rapidly growing ache between her legs?

When the last of the food is gone, she sighs, gesturing to the tray and sending it, along with their coffee mugs, to the kitchen before she turns her head and buries her face in the crook of Emma's neck.

"Yes."

"Yes," Regina repeats, brow furrowing in confusion.

Lips press to her temple and she feels Emma smile. "Yes, I'll move in with you."

Regina lifts her head and searches her face, looking for anything that might tell her Emma needed more time to think about it. "Good," she says upon finding nothing more than hope and love staring back at her.

Emma pecks her lips and then adds, "But later."

Regina frowns again. "Later?"

"There are..." Emma pauses, sliding a hand across her thigh and between her legs. Regina gasps as fingers glide through her folds. "Things-- important things we need to do before we leave this room."

Regina smirks, head falling back against a shoulder with a laugh. She spreads her legs a little wider and purrs, "By all means, Miss Swan, don't let me stop you."

Emma chuckles and flicks the lobe of her ear with the tip of her tongue. "You couldn't if you tried," she husks and Regina moans, hips rising from the bed as Emma enters her three knuckles deep.

* * *

 

A door from downstairs slams as Regina collapses on to her back and she glances at the clock, cursing before she forces herself up from the bed. Emma grabs her by the wrist and pulls her back down, kissing her before she can protest and then pretending she hadn't just stole the breath from her lungs as she rises from the bed.

Stark naked.

Stretching.

Flesh. Regina groans. So much delectable flesh.

Emma throws a knowing grin over her shoulder. "I'll see to the kid," she says with a wink. "You bask."

So Regina does, eyes never leaving the perfection that is her lover's body as she watches Emma dress.

Clothed and looking deliciously put together, Emma moves to leave the room and Regina makes a sound in the back of her throat. Emma turns, eyebrow cocked before the smirk returns and she saunters over to the bed, bending and capturing Regina's lips in a thoroughly scorching kiss that leaves her breathless while her mind buzzes pleasantly.

Emma leaves shortly thereafter, taking the stairs two at a time. She notices Henry in the foyer, staring at the boxes she and Regina had brought back to the mansion after lunch.

"Hey kid."

Henry glances up at her. "What are these?"

"Mine," she says casually, a grin slowly forming on her lips as his eyes widen.

"You're moving in," he questions, voice rising with excitement and she nods, grin full blown as he fist pumps the air. "Yes!"

"I take it you approve," she teases, a bark of laughter leaving her mouth when he gives her a deadpan look. "Just making sure."

"I told her you'd say yes," he states matter-of-factly, and she blinks.

"What," she says, following him as he brushes passed and makes his way to the kitchen. "How long has she wanted to ask me to move in?"

He shrugs, looking back at her as he pulls open the fridge. "A week?"

"A week," she echoes, confusion contorting her expression. "Why didn't she ask me sooner?"

"Well," he drawls and pours himself a glass of juice, seemingly done with his explanation.

She huffs. "Well what?"

"You did avoid her for almost three days," he reminds her, and she groans. "And when she asked you to stay another night, you said you had to go back to your house and didn't bother giving her a reason other than _I've been here four days already, babe._ Duh, ma."

Emma closes her eyes with a sigh and rubs the bridge of her nose. Yeah, duh Emma, she thinks before she laughs. She has some serious ass kissing to do. "Right, well--" She opens her eyes and says, "I'm here now."

"Finally," he sasses her, rolling his eyes.

She couldn't stop her grin even if she tried. He's a little shit, but he's a little shit that reminds her so much of Regina and damn if she doesn't love him more for it.

"Right." She nods and glances around thoughtfully. "Think I should do something nice for her?"

He looks at her again in that special way of his, much like his mother, that tells her she's being an idiot again and she sighs. "Dinner?"

He shrugs. "It's a start," he says, taking his juice and leaving the kitchen before she can tell him just how much of a shit he is.

She sighs again and shakes her head, still grinning. Dinner it is.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scene 1: Emma is scary. Leroy probably pooped himself. Red is torn between amused and terrified. Regina is all gooey, and maybe a little bit turned on.  
> Scene 2: Snow is an idiot and Regina is... holding a knife?

Whistling, Emma walks into the diner without a care in the world, and freezes. Across the room, Snow and Charming turn their gazes on her and the look of hope on their faces has her turning right back around, setting a new record of 4.2 seconds for them to drive her away. She doesn't need coffee that bad and it's not like Regina knew she was going to stop by the office with lunch.

"Emma," she hears her mother and refuses to turn around as she keeps walking. "Please wait."

"Nooope," she responds, lips popping on the p. She does not yet have the self control for this.

It's been two days since she moved in with Regina, and she's fairly certain her parents found out in the previous forty eight hours on account of the camera she'd installed on her front porch to avoid opening the door for them to begin with-

-Well. It was mostly to avoid Hook when he was still insisting they were destined to be together (gross) before her parents became overbearing and she'd taken to avoiding them too.

She'd checked the footage this morning after Regina left for work, and spent the entire time smirking at the look of frustration on their faces when she didn't answer the door.

She isn't still mad at them, per se, but she's had a nice day and the last thing she needs is to listen to the two of them. Hope speech / righteous spiel / a promise to do better; whatever Snow and / or Charming want to say to her can wait. Maybe a day, a week- preferably for the rest of her life.

Turning a corner and out of sight, she raises a hand and flicks her wrist. She appears in the diner, successfully scaring the shit out of Red who glares at her when she laughs.

"Christ Em." Her eyes narrow and she questions, "Did you just lead your parents on a wild-goose chase?"

"Something like that," she replies with a shrug. "Can you bring me Regina's usual and a grilled cheese? I'll quadruple your tip if you get it to me before they realise what I did and come back."

Smiling, Red shakes her head. "Sure Em."

Feeling eyes on her as she watches Red walk away, Emma turns around. People are staring at her and she cocks an eyebrow, waiting to see if one of them will say something. It's been a while since she strangled anyone, and she feels a mild sense of disappointment when the faces turn away one by one.

Until Leroy.

"Something to say, dwarf?"

He grumbles something she can't quite make out, but bows his head and resumes eating. Her brow rises even higher, not expecting that. Leroy has never had a problem with confronting her, or anyone else for that matter.

Often to his own detriment.

"What was that, shorty?"

He glowers as he lifts his head and she smiles sweetly, lashes fluttering. "I've got nothing to say to you, Dark One," he growls.

"Could've fooled me," she goads him, seeing the anger spark in his eyes. She lowers her voice, more Dark One than Emma as she bares her teeth and sing-songs, "I'm all ears, little man."

"Fine." He folds his arms and sits back in his chair, glaring daggers. She'd laugh if she didn't think it'd ruin the mood. Regina looks at her like that all the time. "You want to know what I think, sister?"

"No," she confesses, smirking at his scowl. "But you seem kind of constipated holding it in and it's distracting, so go ahead."

"I think you're ungrateful and Snow deserves better."

Her laughter is swift- the sound neither cheerful nor light as a shiver seems to run down the spines of everyone in the diner. "Oh," she questions. "And what exactly is it that I'm supposed to be grateful to her for?"

The pitch of her voice rises and she continues as she slowly moves, the widening of his eyes propelling her forward as she speaks. "Abandoning me? Replacing me? Stripping me of my every choice?" Her lip curls with a sneer. "Shall I summon her back and throw myself into her arms while I thank her for failing me, time and time again?"

"Em."

Emma stills at the sound of her friend's voice and turns. "Yes Red?"

Bright red lips pull into a tight smile that she immediately recognizes is fake as Red says, "I know you enjoy this sort of thing now, but wouldn't you rather take Regina her lunch?"

Hand clenching at her side, Emma glances back at Leroy, and feels her ire calm somewhat at the look of fear in his eyes. "Yes," she admits, shoulders slumping as she turns her back to him.

He isn't worth it. None of them are. But Regina... Regina is worth denying herself this. She dismisses the magic simmering just below the surface- patiently waiting for her to reach out and lift the dwarf from his chair by the throat.

Counting back from one hundred, she turns fully and walks back to the counter, shoving a hand into her pocket for her wallet. She dumps too many bills on the counter and snatches up the bag beside them, eyeing the coffee offered in an outstretched hand.

"On the house," Red says and Emma snorts. For what she just put down, she could probably buy every dessert in the diner and still have change.

"Thanks Red," she says and accepts the coffee, body engulfed within a plume of black smoke before she even bothers to retract her hand.

She appears in the Mayor's office to hear what is, apparently, the end of a call. "I make no promises," Regina snaps into the phone before she notices her. She slams the phone down without so much as a goodbye and spits, "Your mother."

Emma groans. "Why did she call you?"

"To moan at me, of course, why else?" Regina sighs and leans back in her seat, leveling her with a look that screams Emma better not lie to her. "Are you still upset with her?"

Emma scratches the side of her nose. She doesn't need to think about the answer, but she can't quite help the habit. "Not really," she admits after a minute or two.

It isn't a lie... exactly.

Her little outburst in the diner not withstanding, she really isn't. The subject of her parents simply has a way of pushing her buttons, especially when broached by those who don't know what the hell they're talking about.

Case and point; Leroy.

Regina stares at her for, at least, a full minute before she questions, "Then why didn't you stop when she asked you to?"

Emma sighs. "Because whatever she has to say, I've heard it before and I'd rather spend lunch with you than listen to her whine at me for an hour... or three."

When Regina glances down at her desk, lips twitching as she takes the lower one between teeth, Emma saunters closer with a grin. She knows that look. She is intimately familiar with that look, and she knows she's said the exact thing Regina either needed or simply wanted to hear.

"Hungry," she offers, shaking the bag in her hand.

Regina looks up and slowly nods, letting the smile blossom as Emma perches on the edge of her desk and places the bag in front of her.

"Famished." Regina gestures to the cup in her other hand and asks, "Is that mine as well?"

Emma wrinkles her nose. She has no idea. She takes a sip and the hint of vanilla has her shaking her head. "No, but you're welcome to it," she says, holding it out to her.

Regina plucks it from her fingers and takes a drink, surprising Emma with an approving hum. She raises an eyebrow and Regina frowns. "What?"

"Since when do you like vanilla in your coffee?"

Regina smirks and replies, "Since two seconds ago when I tried it for the first time."

Emma chuckles. "Fair enough," she concedes before leaning forward. Regina meets her halfway and they both sigh into the kiss.

They've only been apart for a few hours, but to Emma it feels like an eternity after they spent the weekend together. With Henry being invited to a friend's house, they'd only left the bedroom when they needed to refuel, and then it was right back to that ungodly comfortable bed that is no longer simply Regina's, but theirs.

When the kiss ends, Regina palms her cheek, breath tickling her lips. "How is your back?"

Emma grins. "De-lightful," she teases, causing a blush of olive cheeks.

"I still think you should let me heal them," Regina says.

"And I still respectfully decline," Emma counters, pecking her on the lips before sitting up straight. It is the reminder of their time together that has kept her in such high spirits all morning, and no one is taking that away from her- no matter how adorable Regina is when she pouts.

Mock serious, she adds, "You keep your wonderful, wonderful hands away from my well-earned battle scars, witch."

Playing along, Regina gasps. "Witch?" She slaps her thigh. "Get out of my office."

"Nuh uh." Emma slips from the desk with the refusal and plops down in her lap.

Regina laughs and kisses her neck. "Nuisance," she murmurs, nothing but adoration in her tone.

"Yours," Emma replies happily, seizing the cup from her hand before pulling the arm around her waist and taking another sip as she leans back.

"Mine," Regina agrees, clutching her hip and kissing her jaw. She nibbles from cheek to ear and feels Emma shiver, smiling as she purrs, "Now feed me, pet."

"Yes, my Queen."

* * *

Mind-numbing paperwork, tedious appointments and whiny peasants begging her to solve their every insipid dispute; all erased in under an hour alone with Emma. Regina smiles to herself and shakes her head. How Emma manages it is a mystery, but her previously sour mood has vanished and Regina could not be happier about it if she tried.

Tipping her had back and finishing off the third coffee Emma had ordered and then conjured from the counter top of the diner, Regina holds out her arm and drops the cup into the bin beside her desk.

As she leans forward to return to her paperwork, her cell chimes and she looks down at the screen before scooping it from the desk and bringing it to her ear.

"Miss Lucas, what can I do for you?"

"Is Snow there yet," Red asks and Regina frowns.

"Yet," she repeats, annoyed simply at the prospect of the woman showing up. If she has to sit through one more speech about Emma needing her family, she just might revert back to the Evil Queen and kill someone.

"There was an..." Red pauses, a brief silence stilling the conversation before she continues, "Incident at the diner earlier. With Emma. Snow just found out."

Regina's frown deepens. "What kind of incident?"

Red doesn't respond right away and Regina huffs, mouth open ready to demand an explanation before Red interrupts. "Emma kind of went all Dark Oney on Leroy. I don't know what he said but if I had to guess from what I heard of her speech, I'd say it had something to do with Emma avoiding her parents."

"And what would that midget know about what Emma is and isn't doing?"

"Well..." Red chuckles. "I love the woman to death, but I think we both know how much Snow likes to talk."

Regina feels the corner of her mouth twitch. "Indeed."

"I just thought you might like a heads up," Red continues. "Snow seems to think you'll know what's going on."

"Very well. Thank you for the warning."

"No problem..." Sensing there's more, Regina rubs the bridge of her nose while she waits. "Try not to kill her, yeah?"

She snorts. "No promises."

"Heh," Red chuckles. "Bye Regina."

"Goodbye, Miss Lucas."

Ending the call, Regina hears the voices from outside her office and stands. She grabs her purse and slips her phone inside before rounding the desk. Her intercom buzzes and she ignores it, walking over to the door instead and yanking it open.

Snow stares at her with wide eyes, lips parting in what Regina assumes is an effort to speak. She rolls her eyes and addresses her secretary. "Cancel the rest of my appointments and then you can go home for the day or… whatever it is you do after work"

When she nods, Regina looks at Snow one last time and grimaces. She claps her on the shoulder, perhaps a little harder than necessary (but who cares? Not her), and in a plume of smoke, they're standing in the foyer of her home.

"Shoes off. Coat up. Meet me in the kitchen," she says and walks off in the direction of said kitchen.

As Regina expects, when she enters and glances out of the window that overlooks their backyard, she can see Emma on her hands and knees, tending to the garden.

With a smile to herself and a sigh, she moves to the fridge where she keeps a few bottles of water and sets about making Emma something to drink.

Snow arrives as she's slicing up a lime and Regina waits patiently for the comment she knows will come. She made it. Henry made it, and so will Snow.

"I didn't know she gardens," Snow eventually says and Regina smiles softly.

"Nor did I," she murmurs. "We had an argument one afternoon last week and she stormed off-"

Snow interrupts. "You were fighting?"

Regina sighs and looks up, knife stilling mid-cut as she says, "I have it on good authority you and Charming fight all the time. Yes, we had a fight, like any normal couple do."

"So it's true. You're together?"

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"Not... really." Snow smiles at her look of surprise and adds, "I think most of us saw it coming."

"Moving on," Regina drawls with a shake of her head. A conversation for another time, she thinks; or never. "When I calmed down and went to look for her, I found her in the backyard- weeding, of all things. I just recently discovered Rumple suggested she find a hobby to help her control certain... urges."

"Murder, you mean," Snow replies in that haughty, better-than-thou tone she has.

Nostrils flaring, Regina glares at her. "In her case? Justifiable homicide," she growls. "Yes, Snow. Every so often, your daughter wants to kill someone and regardless of any moral high-ground you think you have, she is perfectly justified in wanting to do so- yet she doesn't because while she accepts herself, she hasn't embraced the darkness like you and your idiot husband seem to think."

The wide eyed, moronic doe-like expression returns and Regina sneers. "We're done here," she says, fingers clenching around the handle of the knife in her hand. "When you're ready to accept your daughter, you may come and find us but until then, you are no longer welcome here."

Snow opens her mouth ready to protest and Regina raises the knife, pointing it at her. "I will not stand here and listen to you spouting your words of goodness and hope while you deny your own daughter the chance to be who she _wants_ to be. I thought you might be ready, but now I see that you are still the same self-absorbed _hero_ you've always been; too blind to see how much it hurts her to be around you. Get. Out."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I promised someone smut this chapter, but Regina wouldn't play along and then neither would Emma until it was too late. I have a word count to consider, people.

When the front door closes with a thud, Regina drops the knife in her hand and slumps to the counter as she closes her eyes. Why can't they all just get it? Why is she the only one who understands Emma? Everyone struggles. Everyone has demons, yet when it comes to dealing with them-- resisting them, only she seems to understand the struggle Emma is going through.

Months.

Emma has had what equates to evil incarnate living inside of her for months and in all that time she has killed a total of two people. Two. Regina had killed more people in one day just because she was in a bad mood but did anyone make a fuss? No. Because she was the Queen. She was powerful, and she probably would have killed anyone who had made a fuss, but that was beside the point.

She lacked control, control that Emma has in abundance, and Snow White still wants to judge her. Her own mother. 

If she hadn't gained some control of her own over the last three decades, Regina is fairly certain she would have stabbed the woman repeatedly.

Snow White has killed people, and she loses sight of everything because Emma sometimes thinks about it? There is something monumentally wrong with that woman.

Maybe it's her fault. 

Regina scoffs but her mind runs away with the thought.

Maybe when she had the chance to mother Snow, she should have slapped some sense into the stupid child. If anyone deserved it at the time, it would've been the spoiled little secret spewing Princess who thought the whole damn world revolved around her all because her father was a coddling old fool.

She's starting to think she did the bastard a favour when she had Sidney kill him-- spared him the pain of knowing his daughter grew up to be a complete moron.

"More fool me," she murmurs to herself, pushing up from the counter and pinching the bridge of her nose.

No matter the time, the place or the topic; Snow White always gives her a headache.

"I take it my mother left."

Regina jumps at the voice before letting her hand fall away from her face. Emma's smile falters as their eyes meet and she takes a step toward her. "What happened?"

"I..." Regina sighs, words failing her as she glances down at the knife. 

What could she say? I came this close to stabbing your mother? All this time she worried about what Emma might do because of the darkness inside of her, and she'd forgotten all about her own.

Emma rounds the counter, sensing her distress and Regina sinks back into the weight that presses against her back as arms wrap around her waist. The last time she'd felt like this, she'd watched with a smile as Emma showered main street with pieces of Arthur.

"Evil Queen?"

Regina presses her forehead against a cheek and shakes her head. The Evil Queen would've gladly watched Snow White bleed out over the pristine marble of her kitchen floor. "Tired girlfriend."

"She found out about the diner," Emma guesses and Regina nods.

"Why didn't you tell me," she asks, only to feel Emma shrug against her. 

"Nothing happened," she says. "Red pulled me back before I lost it completely."

Regina turns in her embrace. "How?"

Emma smiles softly. "She mentioned you," she replies. "She asked me if I wouldn't prefer bringing you lunch to castrating Leroy and... I don't know what happened. I just stopped."

"Just like that?"

She nods. "Just like that."

Regina smiles. Whether unable or unwilling, she doesn't try to stop it. This is the control she has. She doesn't know if she likes it or even wants it, but the feeling it gives her is indescribable-- to know that the mere mention of her name can stop the Dark One in her tracks...

It is a feeling unlike any other.

"I know," Emma sighs, sounding put out, her voice in complete contradiction to the grin threatening her lips. "I'm whipped even when you're not there."

Regina chuckles, the heaviness that lay on her shoulders since leaving the office lifting. "I think that might be a two-way street," she confesses. "In only a few short hours, you've managed to obliterate two perfectly decent bad moods."

Emma smirks and Regina rolls her eyes. So the control isn't entirely one-sided, which does make her feel a little better about possessing it in the first place, but that doesn't mean Emma needs to rub it in.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Miss Swan, or so help me--"

"You will destroy my happiness," Emma teases, smirk remaining firmly in place. "I recommend a turnover. I hear they're good, and you could probably use the sleep."

Her meaning dawns on Regina immediately and her chest aches, as though it might burst with how much love Emma has instilled with her words. Bastard, Regina thinks before she surges forward, cheeks hurting from the intensity of her smile as she crashes their mouths together.

Emma holds her tight, deepening the kiss the second their lips meet, almost as if she'd predicted her response and, for once, Regina doesn't care. She is glad Emma knows her so well as a tongue slides between her lips and she threads both hands through the beautiful mane of golden curls.

When the kiss ends, Emma cups her cheek, thumb fluttering over her lips as she offers one of those blinding smiles that always take Regina's breath away. Emma is beautiful, but those smiles-- those smiles transform her entire face and she becomes stunning. 

If people could see Emma like this, she wonders, what would they think? What would Snow and Charming think? Leroy? Red? Would they understand then? Could they see that Emma is trying? That they should let her be-- let her become this person she wants to be, and stop trying to bring back the woman she was?

Regina doesn't want to share this Emma. Not with them. They don't deserve her. She doesn't deserve her but at least she's trying. She makes the effort. She wants to understand.

None of them do.

But wouldn't it solve their problem? This gorgeous creature is Emma, darkness and all. Would they all not fall in love with her just as she had? It's been so long. She doesn't remember when she fell in love with Emma, but she knows why. She knows how. 

Sighing, she stares deep into dazzling green eyes and ponders the thought. Emma strokes her cheek and her own eyes flutter as she kisses her again. Soft, tender, loving; Regina's chest warms as they part and Emma brings their heads together.

"What are you thinking about," Emma whispers, a spark of curiosity lighting her gaze.

"You." Regina answers honestly-- instantly. "How easy it could be if everyone saw you the way I do."

"They can't." Emma shakes her head. Regina loathes the way her smile turns sad but she doesn't interrupt, tired of all the questions she has no answers to and intrigued by the response. "They won't."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want them to," Emma admits. She takes a step back and Regina misses the closeness straightaway, wanting to reach out but resisting the impulse as Emma keeps talking.

"Everything I did," she says, "the person that I was before I... before I saved you. It was never about me. Never about what I wanted, or the choices I would choose had I not had all these people wanting-- telling me what was right or wrong. They had their time and their chances. This? Who I am when we're together; this is for you. Not them."

"What about your parents?" Regina frowns. "Our son?"

Emma blinks, expression contorting as if fighting against what she feels. Anger? Pain? Regina can't tell. "You've seen me with Henry. You know I love him and I would never do anything to--"

Regina steps forward and stills her words with a finger against her lips. She shouldn't have included him. It was a slip of the tongue in an effort to understand, nothing more. "I know."

"I love my parents and I would..." Emma pauses and takes a breath before she corrects, "I will protect them with my life, but everyday I find it harder to like them."

Running fingers through her hair, she sighs and continues. "I don't know them, and what I thought I knew turned out to be a lie. I don't think I want to know them anymore. All they do is break my heart, and I'm tired of letting them."

Regina nods. She's just as tired of being witness to it, and she certainly has her own experiences with people she loves but in no way likes. "And this isn't just the darkness talking?"

Emma shrugs. "Some of it, maybe. The darkness is a part of me now. I can ignore it. I can suppress it for a time so it feels like it was never there, but it's always there and it's always going to be there. If I accept that, then I have to accept that it's going to influence some of my choices, and I'm okay with that."

Strangely, Regina realizes that she is too. 

In an effort to be good, to be accepted, Emma had become someone-- someone else. 

Emma White, perhaps? She was a people pleaser. She sought love and acceptance from those who were beneath her for the simple fact they'd allowed her to think she needed to change to receive either.

Her parents, the town, even Henry; they all wanted Emma to be someone else. Mother, Sheriff, Savior, Daughter; titles thrust upon Emma until even she forgot who she was.

Regina wasn't too fond of that version of Emma. It reminded her of who she'd been before she became the Evil Queen but also because Emma deserved more than the scraps of affection she often received from those telling her she needn't change, blind to the fact that she already had. 

Emma White wanted to fit in and she wasn't happy but no one besides Regina had bothered to care enough to notice.

There were glimpses of the old Emma in Neverland, but the insecurities and desire for love had outshined those moments and Regina had dismissed them, resigned to memories of a woman she could see herself falling in love with if only they could get past her attempt to kill that insipid Snow White.

This Emma is much more like the woman who'd taken a chainsaw to her tree because she dared to slander her.

That is the Emma she loves. 

Emma Swan is filled with fire-- with passion, arguing for what she believes in and never afraid to tell you exactly what she thinks before delivering a solid right hook to your jaw because you're an asshole and you deserve it.

Regina smiles at the memory. If being the Dark One is what it takes for her Emma to return... If being the Dark One means no more conforming to fit the mold of someone she isn't and finally choosing for herself, then Regina will continue to support her in whatever way Emma will let her.

"Me too."

* * *

 

Emma watches Regina with a small smile. This is why she chose gardening to distract her from the darkness whispering to her. She'd caught Regina here once during the curse, tending to her rose bushes with a look of absolute peace that'd caused her heart to skip a beat.

So surprised by her reaction, she'd stumbled and almost tripped over her own feet before she turned and ran. She'd wasted months trying to convince herself that it didn't mean what she thought it did and every time she saw Regina, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that she was deluding herself.

Still. She kept denying it. 

Falling for the Evil Queen? An enemy of her own family? No. That wasn't who she was.

Until it was.

If she were to lay out their history, there would be an exorbitant number of times in which she'd asked herself if she was in love with Regina. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it first happened, but when it came time to save her, she could no longer deny it.

The idea everyone seems to have that she would have sacrificed her soul for anyone else is laughable. The darkness would never have gone after them, not only because they lack the necessary magic to draw it in but because it didn't want them. It wanted her and by targeting Regina, it knew no one there but Emma could stop it in time. 

The darkness had won in the end. It was safe with her. Safe from Regina and all the heroes looking to capture it, to confine it. 

It was always meant to be like this. If it had traveled through the town in search of someone else-- Blue, Tink, Zelena-- anyone else with the capability to harness it, Regina would have saved them in an effort to prove herself, forcing Emma to save her due to a promise she had no intention of breaking.

When she raised the dagger to claim it, laughter was there to welcome her even as she assured Regina that it was the right thing to do. 

It wasn't. 

The right thing to do would have been to let it take Regina, to let it drive her to the edge where she would've faced a choice; become the Evil Queen once more, or take her own life using the dagger.

Seconds was all it took for Emma to decide she no longer cared for the right choice.

If spending the rest of her life struggling for control means Regina still lives, then she would make the same choice over and over again because a world without Regina looking as peaceful as she does now, is not a world she wants to live in.

"You're staring."

Her smile widens and she leans back on her knees, dirtying her jeans as she rubs her hands over her thighs. "I can't help it," she replies. "Between the serene look on your face and that straining tank top, you're lucky I haven't jumped you yet."

Regina peers at her from the corner of her eye. "One of these days your libido is going to get you into a world of trouble," she drawls, lips twitching in amusement. "In case you've forgotten, helping to restore our garden was your idea."

Emma nods. Regina may have claimed to simply be tired after arguing with her mother, but Emma is far too attuned to the darkness to not have been aware of the Evil Queen lingering beneath the surface. She'd reasoned that if it helped her, then maybe it could help Regina too, and it had.

Now, nearly two hours later, she thinks it time for them to do something else.

"It was," Emma admits, an idea forming in her mind as she shifts closer. "But if we do it all now, what am I going to do the next time I need a distraction?"

At her suggestive tone, Regina straightens and faces her. "And what exactly do you intend to do if not this?"

Emma wags her eyebrows, drawing an amused chuckle. "I think we both know exactly who I intend to do instead of this."

"Such confidence, Miss Swan," Regina purrs, eyes darkening as Emma grins.

"Just how you like it," she counters, leaning in close. "What do you say, Madam Mayor, wanna get dirty with me?"

Regina throws her head back with a laugh and Emma stares, struck dumb by the sound and maybe a little bit insulted. It was bad, she knew that, but it wasn't that bad. 

"Oh don't pout," Regina chuckles, flicking Emma's lower lip with a tip of her finger. "Honestly, for a Dark One, I think you're adorable way too often. It's ridiculous."

Emma snaps at the finger with teeth, and then pounces on her. Regina's shrill laughter rings through the air before she can stop it and Emma grins wider at the prompt flush of cheeks. 

"Now who's adorable," she murmurs, straddling hips and sliding hands beneath that straining tank top. 

Regina gasps, eyes narrowing. "Your hands are filthy," she protests, slapping Emma's arm to no avail as Emma snorts.

"Like you weren't going to shower as soon as we went back inside," she says, wiggling her fingers and burrowing beneath lace. "You're such a neat freak," she adds, their lips only inches apart as she lowers her head.

Breath tickling her lips as Regina huffs, Emma can see the argument coming from a mile off and rolls her eyes before she kisses her. Regina sighs through her nose but she reaches up, gripping Emma's head with one hand while another glides across her hip.

Emma smiles, triumphant as Regina parts her lips and kisses her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, smut next chapter or nah?


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a terrible person.

Plucking an apple from a low hanging branch above her head, Emma examines the fruit as she leans against the tree. Flicking her wrist, she conjures her dagger in hand and cuts the apple in half, wrinkling her nose at the rot she finds inside.

After their bout of lovemaking (if one can call rolling about in the garden such) Regina mentioned that she thought it was dying and Emma decided to take a look, skeptical when Regina claimed it had nothing to do with the branch she cut from it on her second day in Storybrooke. That, and Emma needed something to do to take her mind off the fact her company had been denied because _she_ couldn't control herself.

Emma scoffs. Like Regina was complaining _before_ she had three consecutive orgasms and passed out on the lawn. Right.

Juices slip into her hand and down her arm as she digs away at the rot with the tip of the knife. She smirks as she flicks the last of it to the ground, an image in her mind that mirrors the healthy white flesh staring up at her from the apple's core.

Emma waits for the images to pass and lifts her head to look up at the slowly darkening sky. It would seem both Nimue and Rumple know a thing or two about arboriculture, and their research bombards her with knowledge she never would've thought she'd need as an average person, let alone as the Dark One.

Apparently, Druids were a thing back in the Enchanted Forest, and both former Dark Ones had been unusually obsessed with them.

"Learn something new every day," she murmurs to herself, pushing from the tree and throwing the massacred apple over her shoulder as the last of the images fade.

She wipes her dagger on the thigh of her jeans, and then sends it back to the little box inside the safe where Regina had hidden it. Turning and placing both hands against the bark, she closes her eyes and slowly guides the hands around the trunk, feeling every rough notch and scar scrap along her palms.

When she reaches the wound she herself had created, she sighs, tracing the outline with a finger before she steps forward. She embraces the trunk, head shaking back and forth before she rests it against the bark. She wishes she could have been there when Rumple discovered the technique she's about to use; the mere idea he'd once hugged a tree almost enough to send her into a fit of laughter.

Snorting her amusement once for good measure, she dismisses the thought, smile firmly on her lips as she orders her body to relax. She sinks against the tree, a calm descending over her as her muscles begin to loosen and magic surges through them.

Seconds become minutes, and then time loses all meaning as she's overcome by a lightness both soothing and terrifying in equal measure, but when the darkness remains dormant, the terror slowly dissipates. No voices scream at her to stop and for the first time in a long while, there is no struggle as she uses the power inside of her to do something good— something selfless.

A familiar sensation stirs in the pit of her stomach, a pulling that grows stronger and more intense until it starts to burn and Emma groans, reminded of her time in hospital. She forces her eyes open and raises her head, staring up through the branches of the tree to the top where a dark cloud begins to manifest, the scent of decay rising from the trunk as black tendrils float skyward.

Emma purges the rot from within and the tree glows a deep shade of green before she finds the area missing a limb and guides her magic toward it, watching as the branch reforms, thicker and stronger than ever.

As her magic wanes, the back door opens and she peels herself from the tree, keeping one hand on the trunk as she turns with a smile. Regina stands on the porch, awe, happiness and pride flitting across her face in a matter of seconds before she finally settles on one Emma is not expecting.

Concern.

Emma frowns and follows her gaze, mentally smacking herself over the head for forgetting the ominous cloud looming above them. "It'll fade," she calls, adding a _hopefully_ beneath her breath. It isn't as if the memories she gets are vivid with explanations; she'd done what she saw and hoped for the best.

"What did you do," Regina asks, walking over to her. "I feel different."

"I broke..." Emma begins to explain before the rest of her sentence registers. "What do you mean you feel different?"

Regina stares at something over her shoulder, ignoring the question entirely. Emma turns her head, and her grin reappears when she realizes Regina has just noticed the new branch.

"You healed it."

"I did," Emma replies, heart squeezing at the look of adoration she receives as those eyes flick back to her. "Not bad for a first attempt at dabbling in druid magic, if I do say so myself."

"Not bad at all," Regina agrees, stepping in close and slipping an arm around her waist as she kisses her cheek. "More help from the former Dark Ones, I take it?"

Emma hums, her brow creasing as she recalls the burning sensation at the start. It was the same feeling she had the day she lifted the curse from Rumple, only less severe this time 'round.

"Any idea why someone would want to put a curse on your tree?"

Regina lifts her head from where she'd rested it against a shoulder and seeing the hesitation in her eyes, Emma allows her some time to think. She looks up as she sends one last pulse of magic into the tree and her eyes widen, glued to the sight of the cloud imploding in on itself.

As if drawn into a vacuum, a sucking accompanies the sight and Emma bites her lower lip to stop from laughing as Regina startles against her with a gasp.

Naturally Regina smacks her for the effort. "A little warning would've been nice."

"In my defense," Emma drawls, grinning as she captures the hand on her chest and entwines their fingers. "I didn't know it would do that."

Of course, she leaves out the fact she wouldn't have warned her if she had. It is hard to surprise Regina, and it is a forgone conclusion that if one is successful, Regina will hate said surprise with a burning passion, which is precisely why Emma relishes it every time she manages it.

Love or no, irritating Regina will always be a highlight of her life.

"You're certain it was a curse?"

Emma studies the side of her face and waits for Regina to look at her before she nods. "I'm still learning but I'm at least 90% certain, yeah."

Regina sighs and Emma frowns, using the grip on her hand to pull her close as she leans back against the tree and tilts her head in question.

"This tree is very literally a part of me." Emma inhales sharply and her fingers twitch. Regina squeezes her hand as she explains, "I thought what I felt was you-- that it was your power, but I suppose a curse makes..." She pauses to chuckle and shake her head. "A lot more sense."

"What do you mean its part of you," Emma questions, horrified by what she'd done to the tree all those years ago. "Are you telling me that when I--"

That is as far as she gets before Regina rips her hand from hers and clamps it across her mouth. "No," she denies vehemently. "I didn't have magic then. I didn't feel a thing. Please don't think about that."

Emma sags in relief and Regina smiles, moving her hand to a cheek. She strokes her cheekbone and Emma's lashes flutter at the attention, unbridled affection blooming in her chest.

"I imagine that whoever cursed the tree needed me weakened for some reason."

Anger, bright and hot chases away the affection and Emma scowls as the darkness creeps back in. Regina kisses her before she can vow to find and viciously maim whoever is responsible, fingers trailing down her cheek and along her jaw before guiding them to the back of her neck where they curl, tugging.

Leaving her no other choice than to respond or magic herself away, she chooses the former. Emma sighs against her mouth and sinks in to the kiss, relishing the soft yet persistent press of lips that curl with a smile as she straightens from the tree and grabs Regina by the hips.

The darkness purrs and settles back down, disappearing into the obscure void where it waits, ready to strike at the slightest provocation. Emma breathes through her nose and deepens the kiss, sliding her tongue between plump lips. Regina's hum vibrates against her mouth and Emma grips her tighter, desperate to hold on for as long as she can.

It is more than the simple quiet of the voices that plague her when she is alone. Being with Regina, being close to her, touching-- _kissing_ Regina is like coming up for air after being submerged underwater too long. In the darkness, her soul drowns but with Regina there is so much light. Emma doesn't think that even before her sacrifice she'd ever felt like this and she never wants it to end.

But like all good things, the end must come and when it does, Emma sighs. Regina smiles as though she understands, and Emma honestly believes she might as she brings their foreheads together and closes her eyes. If anyone can understand her struggle, she'd bet on Regina every time.

"Thank you," Regina murmurs, breath warm against her lips.

Emma smiles and slowly drops her head to a shoulder, slipping arms around a slender waist in an impromptu hug. Regina returns her embrace with the same lethargic movements, a pleased hum singing in the back of her throat that Emma is helpless to resist.

A chuckle, deep and carefree caresses her ear as she kisses the pulse beneath her lips. "I may not know much about being the Dark One, dear, but I do know that the amount of magic you just used required far too much energy for you to be coming onto me again so soon."

"You'd think so," Emma replies, skimming the back of her thighs as she slides hands beneath her skirt.

Regina scoffs and Emma can practically hear the eye roll in her voice. "You're going to pass out."

"Your faith in me is inspiring."

With a gasp, Regina quickly wraps her legs around Emma's waist as she's lifted from the ground. "Miss Swan," she growls, doing her best to seem unaffected.

Emma isn't fooled. Regina is turned on and boy, if she isn't a little bit smug about it. "You're hot when you're pretending to be mad at me," she says and turns, pressing Regina back against the tree. She grinds her stomach into the heat radiating from between thighs, and grins at Regina's heady moan. "Do I seem tired to you, Regina?"

Chestnut eyes narrow. "If you ruin my shirt, Emma, I swear I will--"

"Destroy my happiness?" Emma interrupts, deadpan. Really, Regina needs a new catchphrase already. "I believe we covered this."

"No." Regina shakes her head, chuckling as she purrs, "Oh my dear, no. If you ruin this 500 dollar blouse, I will _kill_ you."

Emma blinks. _Well then_ , she thinks. _Wait._ "You spent half a grand on a shirt? What does it do; massage your breasts for you when I'm not available?"

Regina snorts before she gives in and allows her laughter the release it craves. Emma stares, and stares, and then bites her lip because _for fucks sake_ could Regina possibly _be_ any more gorgeous? How is this woman real, and how in the hell did she get so lucky?

"You know that's just arousing me more, right?"

The laughter cuts off and she expects a reprimand, or at the very least, a chiding look she _knows_ Regina would _follow_ with a reprimand if she wasn't so in love and entirely too fond of her. Instead, she gets dilated pupils and a grin that tells her Regina is _quite_ aware of what her laughter does to Emma.

Which makes sense, if Emma really bothers to think about it. No one in her life has ever understood her better than Regina does. She knows. She's had ample time to ponder such a thing when she was isolating herself from the town and convincing her darkness not to burn everything down around her simply because it didn't like being cooped up, especially when it meant not seeing Regina unless she stopped by with another of those ghastly hope speeches.

There are few in her life she ever really let close. She never consciously _allowed_ Regina in, but somehow she'd gotten in regardless and once Emma realized it, she strangely never felt the desire to throw her out. Falling in love with Regina was hard and wrought with indecision, insecurities and doubts but trusting Regina? She sometimes wishes it was that easy for everyone, but then again, she's also grateful that it isn't.

"Get out of your head."

Emma starts, blinking rapidly as she comes back to herself and jerks her head away from the warm breath at her ear. "Sorry," she offers, sheepish as she taps the side of her head and adds, "Lots of warm fuzzies up in there."

Regina chuckles and, with abundant sarcasm, drawls, "I bet the darkness just loves you."

"Of course it does," Emma counters, mildly offended by the insinuation of otherwise. "I keep it safe from all you mean people wanting to get rid of it."

An expression of disbelief spreads across Regina's face. "You sound as if you're talking about a puppy."

Emma tilts her head, considering, and then shrugs. "You do tend to compare me to them a lot."

"True," Regina concedes before gesturing between them. "Was this supposed to go somewhere, or do you simply like holding me?"

"Are you implying it can't be both?" Emma raises an eyebrow. And to think Regina had the gall to call _her_ ridiculous. "Silly woman," she adds and claims her mouth, silencing Regina before she can voice the protest forming on her lips.

In the next instant, they're standing in their bedroom and Emma breaks the kiss, mildly surprised. She was sure Regina would offer at least a token resistance before she gave in— not that she intends to bring attention to the thought. Knowing Regina, she would take it as some form of sadomasochist challenge, and then gleefully deny them both just to prove she could.

Emma shudders at the thought and quickly recaptures dark, pouted lips, grasping Regina's backside more firmly in hand and walking them towards the bed. Regina moans, hands curling in her hair as Emma carefully presses her down into the mattress and sighs against her mouth. If there ever came a day when kissing Regina was no longer a possibility, Emma thinks it'll be that day the world finally finds out what the Dark One is truly capable of.

Regina is so soft, and not just her mouth. Everything about her is, from the beautiful waves of midnight hair framing her perfect face to the tips of her toes. Emma has spent hours upon hours worshipping this gorgeous body, and not once has she failed to marvel at how exquisitely _plump_ Regina is. Unlike her, Regina's definition isn't obvious at first, muscles hidden beneath layers until she is stretching, arching her back or twisting her body, naked and begging Emma for more.

Hesitant as she is to take her hands from Regina's fine, shapely ass, Emma explores every available inch of flesh as she pops the buttons from Regina's blouse and attaches her mouth to a stiff, lace-covered nipple. She nibbles and sucks to the wonderful sounds of pleasure as Regina squirms beneath her, pleas for more falling like prayers from her lips.

Emma obliges, freeing her mouth for the time it takes to slip a hand under Regina and undo her bra. She quickly dives back in, sucking a breast into her mouth as she palms the other and kneads the warm, soft skin of breast and thigh, humming as nails rake up and down her back.

Rolling the hard little nub with her tongue, Emma takes it between teeth and feels the long, heady groan that reverberates in her ears. She pushes the hand under Regina's skirt higher, knuckles running along the lace between her thighs and coming away wet as she bites down.

Regina bucks and Emma switches breasts, laying a hand above her shoulder as she uses the other to push aside lace. Regina moans and rolls her hips, clasping the back of Emma's head as she delves between wet, swollen folds, coating her fingers with slick heat before bringing them to her clit and rubbing in slow, wide circles.

"Emma…"

Tugging the nipple between teeth, Emma's mouth pops from her breast and she looks up. "Hmm?" Her heart stutters in her chest upon taking in the sight of eyes so dilated they're almost black, and the perfect row of teeth biting down on a lip almost hard enough to bleed.

"Would you…" Regina sighs and closes her eyes, head shaking back and forth. Emma frowns, stilling the hand between her thighs as she rises on the other and hovers above her.

"What," she questions curiously. There is a desperation in her voice when she adds, "Tell me what you want. I'll do anything."

Regina shudders, lids fluttering. "Anything," she repeats, staring up at her, and Emma nods. "Talk."

For a split second, Emma stares back in confusion before realization dawns and a smile spreads slowly across her face. "My Queen," she purrs, her delight of the request palpable. "Are you asking me to talk dirty to you?"

When annoyance flashes across her face, Emma decides teasing her is out of the question. "Are you," she continues, lowering herself back down and trapping her hand between them as she strokes Regina's clit. "—asking me to tell you how warm and swollen you are against my fingers?"

Regina moans in answer and her throat bobs with a swallow as she spreads her legs wider. Emma caresses her slit, getting her fingers nice and wet before she slowly presses inside, first with one. "Do you want to know how tight you are," she whispers and adds a second. "How much I love the way your cunt clings to me, begging me to stay…"

With every word, she thrusts into her and savours each sound Regina makes, whimpers, moans and breathless pleas all falling like music from those lips. Emma bows her head and captures them, hoping, wanting, and wondering how; _how_ can she choose. She has too many fantasies, too many ways to bring Regina pleasure to simply choose a single one.

"I want to put my mouth on you," she says, breaking from their kiss with a groan, too overwhelmed by the thoughts in her mind to keep them from escaping. "I want to feel you clench around my tongue, to taste you on my lips as you fill my throat and spill down my chin."

Needing to go faster, deeper, harder, Emma pushes to her knees and holds herself up with one arm. Regina arches, whimpering in protest at the loss of heat before she wraps her legs around Emma's waist and Emma feels the lace pull tight against her hand.

"I wish I had a cock," she murmurs, staring down into twin pools of the deepest obsidian and moaning at the sting of nails sinking like knives in between her shoulder blades. "I'd flip you on to your stomach and hold you down as I take you from behind, make you feel as if I was splitting you open while you begged for more… more… more."

Regina gasps and the pull becomes too much as she thrusts her hips. The sound of lace tearing mixes with the squelch of wet, abundant heat and Emma grins. "Would you like that, my love?" Regina moans and Emma's grin widens as the walls ripple around her fingers, her darkness purring in response.

"I bet I know what you _really_ want." She lowers her head to an ear and runs her tongue along the lobe before sucking it into her mouth. She waits, nibbling, tonguing, thrusting as she senses Regina's impatience grow, and before it snaps, she whispers, "After I turn you over and my cock is _dripping_ with you, your cunt too sore, too abused…"

Emma pulls back, wanting to see her face— to see the desire in those eyes. "I'll slide my hands over those gorgeous cheeks of yours… slip my thumbs between them… spread them nice and wide." Regina licks her lips and her nostrils flare. "You'll know exactly what I want as I watch your puckered hole clench, grasping at nothing, but you know I won't ask…"

"Please," Regina moans and writhes against her, the plea breathless as Emma smiles at her obvious desperation.

"You will beg me," she murmurs and uncurls her fingers.

"Yes."

"Beg for my long… thick… cock in that tight…" She thrusts, each one slow but deep, punctuating each word as they roll, husked from the tip of her tongue, "filthy…

"Mmm."

"…sweet little ass—" Regina cuts her off as she throws her head back with a shout and her back snaps taut. Emma bites her lip and slides an arm underneath her, face buried in the crook of her neck as Regina begins to shudder violently and they sink down into the mattress together.

She draws it out for as long as she can with slow strokes, and the gentle back and forth of a thumb against her clit.

Regina shudders one last time and takes a long, deep breath. Her thighs grow slack, legs dropping from around Emma's waist as she brings her arms up and drapes them across her back. "You have a… disgustingly wonderful mouth, Dark One."

Emma chuckles softly. "You're welcome," she mumbles before a sigh, content as a hand begins stroking her spine and she burrows deeper into the safety and warmth of Regina's neck.

 


	20. Chapter 20

What to do. What to do, Emma thinks as she draws circles on a warm, olive-toned back with her thumb. Regina's attempt to stay awake to prove Emma needed sleep more than she did was impressive, but ultimately pointless as she eventually passed out, leaving Emma to amuse herself as she lies pinned beneath her.

Emma is bored. The weight of the woman she loves atop her is comforting far more than it is burdensome, and the fact Regina is naked has kept her preoccupied for the better part of three hours already but like every other human in the world with untold power at her fingertips, there is nothing quite as maddening as having nothing to do.

She'd considered waking Regina earlier but she eventually had to dismiss the idea because, as delicious as the thoughts she had to make it up to her were, Regina needs and deserves her rest more than Emma needs to sate her libido... again. Besides, waking Regina is more of a last resort should she decide to go out and murder someone to entertain herself.

Not that she has anyone in mind, mind.

Well…

There is one person she'd like to murder, but since her two biggest fans decided to throw her behind bars that are impenetrable in every sense of the word, Blue is off the table for the moment.

Emma sighs. She really didn't think that one through but letting her parents handle the fairy instead of killing her outright seemed reasonable at the time. Now, not so much. She knows it's only a matter of time before someone discovers the new Dark One isn't quite as honest as the previous ones before they get the bright idea to let the narcissistic gnat go free.

Knowing her parents, they'd throw Blue a 'We're sorry we wrongfully imprisoned you' party at the diner. Worse, they'd probably try and guilt trip her and Regina into going, and then she would have no choice but to kill them all simply on principle.

Blue is a useless, good for nothing harpy whose only thought is of herself and what she can get out of other people for her so-called _help_. Imprisonment is the least she deserves after she failed to help a child in need, one who needed her help far more than a boy who was too much of a moron to appreciate the fact his father stopped being a coward and sacrificed his own humanity to protect him.

Closing her eyes, Emma breathes in deeply through her nose and shakes the thought from her head. If she could feel shame for it, she would. Neal doesn't deserve any of the blame for what his father did, but knowing Blue had helped him while she refused to help Regina is almost enough to make her snap. She might not have much experience when it comes to these things, but if she had to make a choice between who to save; the daughter of an egomaniacal psycho, or the son of a power-obsessed coward— she's pretty certain Blue chose wrong.

Regardless, Cora is dead. Neal is dead, and Rumple is no longer a concern at all. As far as former Dark One's go, he's happy with his second chance and spends most of his time at home playing the dotting husband to Belle who may or may not be pregnant.

Emma scrunches her nose and shudders mildly. Rumple and sex is not a topic she wants to contemplate, ever. She has enough scars from when she was blindsided by the fact he'd slept with Blue, and Cora, and a vast number of other women who all clearly had something unquestionably wrong with them.

As Regina shifts against her, Emma shoos that line of thought away and glances down to find owlish, chestnut eyes peering up at her. She smiles softly and runs fingers through her hair.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

Emma shrugs before she rolls them, sidling down until they're face to face and she can claim beautifully plump lips. If she'd wanted to talk to anyone, she would have left the bed hours ago and though she hadn't wanted to wake her, Regina waking up on her own is another matter entirely.

Feeling hands slide over her back and the hum against her mouth, she smiles and deepens the kiss as Regina palms the cheeks of her ass. Seconds, minutes, maybe even hours pass before they come up for air and Emma continues down, bathing warm flesh with lips and tongue. Regina arches in to her, encouraging her with soft whimpers and needy little moans that send pleasure rocketing through her system.

Her head disappears beneath the sheet and between thighs that close around her, keeping her exactly where Regina needs her until she lifts from the bed and cries out, begging for another even as she shudders with the first.

Emma obliges, repeatedly.

* * *

 

Regina stretches with a yawn, waking for the second time that morning. Her hand falls to the mattress where cold sheets lie to greet her, and she panics for an undefined moment in time before a sound from downstairs garners her attention. She sighs and pushes herself up, running a hand through tousled strands of raven black as she silently berates herself for the thoughts that went through her head.

One day, she will learn to trust as easily as she promises she will, but that day has yet to come. She huffs out a breath and stands from the bed as the sounds from downstairs become more distinct. She hears voices, interspersed with what sounds like pots and pans being tossed about, and wonders if Emma might have lost her mind and is attempting to _cook_ , of all things.

Impatient, she decides that just this once, she will use her magic to dress rather than undress, then transports herself to the kitchen. She freezes the second her sight clears, nostrils filling with a divine combination of smells as her eyes land on their son.

Spotting her as he looks up from his plate, Henry mumbles, "Morning mom," around the strip of bacon hanging from his mouth.

Try as she might in order to reprimand him for talking with his mouth full, she fails to stifle a smile and his eyes twinkle knowingly as he smiles back. She shakes her head and pilfers a piece of his bacon. "I thought you were staying with the Tillmans," she says, ignoring the half-hearted scowl he sends her for daring to steal his food.

"Ma came and got me," he replies with a shrug. "Something about wanting to spend the day together."

Regina frowns. This is the first she was hearing of Emma's plan. "Speaking of your other mother…"

"She said she forgot something and would be right back."

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Emma reappears with a bouquet of flowers and Regina squeaks, eyes wide as the sound immediately sends a flush of heat to her cheeks. Emma grins and extends the hand holding the colourful arrangement, amusement lacing her tone when she says, "Good morning, love of my life."

Touched, Regina accepts the flowers and brings them to her nose. She inhales their fragrance and her eyes fall shut with a pleased sigh. Cliché as it might be to some, no one has ever brought her flowers before and her heart warms at the gesture, and more so at the endearment.

Her eyes open and she finds that beautiful emerald gaze staring at her with untold love and affection, and she smiles even wider than before. A little voice in the back of her head wonders what Emma is up to but another, much louder one, tells her to keep the suspicious cynicism to herself as she moves forward.

Setting the bouquet on the counter, she fists a hand in the collar of Emma's shirt and pulls her in for a kiss. "Look away, kid," Emma murmurs against her mouth before she reciprocates, winding a hand in her hair as she parts her lips.

Regina tries not to get carried away, but there is something about Emma's mouth that sets her on fire and before she can stop it, a moan bubbles forth. She jerks back, horrified as her head whips around, and laughter erupts from her chest at the sight of their son. Henry glances up at the sound and raises an eyebrow, pushing back an ear of the headphones clamped around his head.

"Why is mom laughing like a crazy person," he questions his blonde mother who smirks, holding Regina up so that she doesn't collapse to the floor.

"I may have forgotten to mention that I gave you magical headphones," she replies, resting her chin on the top of Regina's head and squeezing her tight.

"Oh." He tilts his head and waits for Regina to regain some semblance of composure before he states, "She gave them to me when you started dating so I wouldn't be scarred for life."

Regina snorts and buries her face in Emma's chest where her chuckling continues. Emma strokes her back, grinning from ear to ear as she soaks in the sound. This morning couldn't have turned out any better than if she'd planned it weeks in advance; Henry. Breakfast. Flowers— the headphones weren't planned at all, but if it amuses Regina, then she's glad she thought of them.

Reminded by her inner musing that she hasn't actually finished cooking breakfast yet, her arms slacken around Regina's waist and she pulls back slightly, setting her hands on hips. "You hungry, crazy lady?"

Regina bites her lower lip, eyes meeting her gaze before they cut to the stove and she remembers. "You cooked," she breathes, a touch of awe in her voice.

"You say that as though it's the first time." Regina glances back to her in confusion, brow furrowed. Emma steps back with a sigh. "Was our date that unremarkable?"

Again, Regina flushes bright red as that evening comes rushing back in vivid detail. She remembers the setting, the music, and Emma's comment about her favourite meal being favoured by whores.

More specifically, she remembers the suit Emma greeted her in and the kiss they'd shared on her doorstep.

And the park—oh yes, the park where she almost gave in and took Emma then and there, to hell with taking it slow.

That day had been one of the best of her life but with everything that happened, Emma cooking was perhaps the least memorable part of it, and Regina curses herself for forgetting as Emma makes to take another step back. She grabs her by the elbow and tugs her back, claiming lips that part in question before Emma gives it voice.

"I fell in love with you all over again on that day," she confesses, taking her cheeks in hand as she rests their foreheads together. "But my dear; that _suit_... that suit will forever overshadow anything you ever do, my love."

Emma's lips twitch and she breathes out a laugh before she allows the smile to blossom fully. "You're a horn dog," she whispers fondly and Regina grins.

Henry clears his throat and reminds them, "Still here."

Regina's hands slip from her face to shoulders as Emma turns her head, one brow raised. "No one told you take off the headphones," she says. "That one is all on you, buddy."

He rolls his eyes but concedes her point and flicks the earpiece back over his ear. As he returns his attention to his breakfast, head bopping along to music that only he can hear, Emma returns her own to Regina and grins at the small smile stretching plump lips.

"So, what's the occasion," Regina asks as she leans into her and their mouths brush. "Henry says you want to spend the day together?"

"Mmm," Emma hums. "I went for a walk earlier this morning and found that stream in the forest. Last time we tried a family day, it didn't exactly end well and I thought…"

Regina interrupts, "Is this the stream out by the mine, perchance?" She has an inkling, and hopes she's wrong but with the way Emma averts her gaze, she knows she's not. "What do you intend to do, exactly? Stand on the opposite side of the bars and taunt her?"

Emma frowns at her mocking tone and protests, "She cursed your damn tree."

"And you removed it," Regina counters. She didn't know. Emma hadn't said, but she isn't surprised to learn Blue was the culprit. "No harm, no foul."

With a scowl, Emma retreats to the stove and Regina sighs. Whatever Emma is feeling, she knows that it won't go away on its own and ignoring it will only make it worse. She walks over to Henry and taps him on the arm, waits for him to look up before she inclines her head toward the dining room.

He doesn't question her. Instead, he grabs his plate and slides from the stool. She wonders while he wanders, his back disappearing around the corner as he quietly slips from the room. A year ago, and he would have demanded an explanation— a reason for why he should leave, why they were keeping things from him…

She wonders if it is simply that he is growing up, that he is learning to let things go and not question their every move.

She wonders if it is that talk that neither he nor Emma will share with her.

She wonders, and she worries.

"Emma?" A deep, bone weary sigh is her only response but despite it, she smiles. "Talk to me, my sweet," she urges, rounding the counter to where Emma stands and embracing her from behind. "I only want to help."

At her silence, Regina rests a cheek against her back and waits. She can sense the wheels churning in Emma's mind as fingers tap a nonsense rhythm upon the lid over the frying pan. Her stomach rumbles as it reminds her she hasn't eaten, but she pays it no mind— or at least; she tries to.

Emma apparently hears it, however, and Regina breathes in deeply as she lifts the lid and those scents from before wash over her once more.

"I lied."

Regina blinks and lifts her head, letting the seconds tick by as dread fills her stomach. She wants to demand an explanation but at the same time, she knows she has to be patient otherwise Emma will shut down—retreat. After months of delivering hope speeches gone wrong and being unceremoniously dumped on the sidewalk when she'd pushed too hard, she's learned her lesson, and she's learned it well.

"Blue doesn't want Snow dead," Emma adds, turning in the embrace. Regina stares at her in confusion, questions followed by more questions invading her thoughts. "I wanted her punished for what she did to you, so I lied."

"But why?" Emma frowns, lips parting as if to answer but Regina shakes her head, knowing she wasn't clear. "Why _that_ lie?"

Lips formed in an 'O', Emma nods. "Because I knew if I told the truth, they'd have done nothing. If I said I wanted her dead because she ignored your cry for help all those years ago, I'd be the villain, not her. I didn't want to kill her in front of you, or them, but if they'd done nothing? I wouldn't have thought twice about snapping her neck the next time I saw her walking down the street."

Heart thumping rapidly against her chest, Regina swallows thickly as she turns the confession over in her mind. The more Emma spoke, the closer the Dark One edged toward the surface, the malevolent lilt almost rousing her own darkness as the Evil Queen stirred, yearning to rise up and meet her equal.

Regina squeezes her eyes shut and pushes her back down. "They don't need to know," she murmurs. If it's a choice between letting Snow think she was betrayed, and standing back while Emma adds another body to her count, there is no question.

"Just like the curse," she says, forcing her eyes open. "No one needs to know."


	21. Chapter 21

_“They don’t need to know. Just like the curse, no one needs to know.”_

Emma closes her eyes against the words and tries to shake the voice from her mind. The desperation in Regina’s tone plays like a broken record but despite her insistence, Emma knows it would be nothing short of naive to believe and she knows Regina knows it too. Snow is famous for giving second chances to the undeserving and somewhere along the line, Blue is bound to end up as one of them.

If Blue is to truly be punished, to suffer for the things she has done. If there is such a thing as true justice, then giving the fairy to her parents had been a mistake. Should Blue roam free again, she’ll likely come after one, if not both of them. If not because they are the reason she is in jail to begin with, then because whatever plan she had when she weakened Regina by cursing her tree hasn’t yet come to fruition.

Eyes flying open, Emma sits up suddenly. _If_ she wants to punish Blue, then she needs to trick her— trick all of them. Except. Emma turns her head slowly to where Regina sits, and chews the inside of her cheek. Regina hasn’t spoken to her since those words and she knows. She _knows_ it’s because she lied, because it hadn’t occurred to her to tell Regina the truth before now and now Regina sits there across from her, looking sad while she pretends to read the book in her lap.

Emma instantly feels awful and she throws herself off the couch, giving no thought to how she might look as she crawls to Regina on hands and knees. Regina looks up at the sound of her hitting the floor and a brow inches higher and higher, disappearing into her hairline.

“I’m sorry,” Emma says, coming to her knees as she settles between Regina’s legs. Regina removes her glasses and places them on the table next to her, meeting her gaze with a guarded expression, and a wary but permissive sigh. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I hurt you. It was never my intention.”

Draping her arms along the sides of the chair, Regina questions, “Then why did you wait so long to tell me.” Emma glances down and sees the whitening of her knuckles as she clutches the arms of the chair. “What possible reason could you have for keeping it from me? Why tell me at all?”

“I had no intention of telling anyone,” Emma admits, cringing at the words. If she had taken a moment, she might have been able to phrase that better but she isn’t going to lie and, tact or no tact, it is the truth. “I know how that sounds. It contradicts what I just said and makes my apology seem like bullshit, but it’s the truth. I didn’t see any reason to admit what I did when it worked and then I…”

_Forgot._

She huffs and sits back on her heels. The rest is simply excuses and blame that doesn’t feel like blame but will if it comes out of her mouth. She did it for Regina. She did it to protect her, to rid her of the one person who would use everything in her power to tear Regina down in the name of Snow White and Prince Charming who stupidly want the pathetic, broken child that _they_ abandoned back.

Her anger is sudden and hot, and it boils her blood.

They sent Blue to convince Regina to keep trying to save her, and gave no thought whatsoever to how that _convincing_ might go. They don’t care about Regina. They don’t even care about her. The only people they care about is each other, and fuck anyone who gets in the way of what either of them want.

 Her nostrils flare and a sneer curls her upper lip. She starts to rise, goaded by her thoughts to do what she should have done to begin with and simply kill them all.

Instead she stiffens, stopped by the hand that cups her face and the quiet, chiding murmur of her name. She clenches her jaw, teeth grinding as a growl rumbles in her chest and a thumb glides over her cheek in a gentle caress. “Calm down.”

She laughs, feeling the shudder ripple through an outstretched arm and into the hand holding her in place. “Calm,” she repeats with a questioning lilt. “No,” she denies, pulling back from the hand as she shakes her head and stands. “I do believe I have had enough of being calm.”

With a flash of teeth and a flourish, her magic wraps around her and whisks her to the other side of town where she reappears in the apartment belonging to her parents.

“Oh mommy dearest,” she calls, voice sickeningly sweet voice as she wanders from room to room.

When she’s covered the first floor and found neither one of her parents, she returns to the stairs leading to the second and takes them two at a time. Anger simmering, just waiting for someone worthy to unleash it on, she saunters down the hall, throwing open doors and announcing her presence as loudly as possible.

Shoving open the last, she grimaces at yet another empty room before she catches a whiff of a familiar scent and smirks. She turns and flicks her wrist, vanishing in another cloud of black smoke as Regina springs forth like a sexy, decidedly non-clown like jack-in-the-box.

She strolls in to the main room of the station and her smirk widens at the sight of her father. “Hello _dad_ ,” she drawls, barely restraining a giggle as he jumps in his seat. “You wouldn’t happen to know where _mom_ is, would you?”

“She’s at…” He frowns, trailing off as she rounds his desk and forcefully grabs him by the shoulders. “Em—”

He slumps in his chair as a purple mist begins to form in the center of the room. Emma waits for Regina to emerge, and grins upon meeting the wide, chestnut eyes of her lover. “He’s far more tolerable when he isn’t talking, don’t you think?”

“Emma…”

She rolls her eyes. And here she thought Regina might humour her for a minute. Oh well. “One down, one to go,” she says in a sing-song voice before she absconds with David.

* * *

 

Absolutely done with this game, Regina groans and throws her hands up. Now that she knows Emma is definitely after her parents, interrupting whatever she intends to do with them should be a simple matter.

Emma is terrible with schedules, which is why she was always late to meetings and had never once handed her paperwork in on time as Sheriff. It comes as no surprise she’s forgotten that twice a month her mother, along with her brother, attend the Mommy and Me classes run by Cinderella every second Saturday.

She materializes in the gym and is suddenly surrounded by a gaggle of women. They pause in their child-unrelated gossip long enough to gasp and set her teeth on edge. “Snow,” she says, turning in a circle until she finds the familiar stare, and breathes a sigh of relief. “You need to—”

“Come with me,” a voice interrupts from behind and she quickly spins on her heel. Emma stands on the other side of the room with baby Neal cradled in her arms. “You’d make a great action hero, babe— saving the damsel from the big bad villain, that throaty husk in your voice making them weak at the knees as they fall into your arms, unf.”

Taking her eyes from her brother to look up at them, Emma flashes them all a grin. “Hot. Am I right, ladies?”

Regina bites the inside of her cheek. She wants to smile and roll her eyes, no more capable of denying the affection that blossoms in her chest than she is of ignoring the rather lusty expression Emma sends her when some of the women murmur their agreement, oblivious to the threat Emma presents in her current state.

“Emma,” she murmurs, intentionally directing her attention back to Neal before she tilts her head, and raises a brow. She would, of course, trade Snow for him— for any child, in a heartbeat but she doesn’t think Emma had intended anything beyond the initial scare of seeing the Dark One holding him.

Another wave of relief washes over her when, with a sigh, Emma kisses his forehead and places him back in his bassinet. Much like the other women gathered in the room, he too remains oblivious throughout the ordeal and sleeps on as though he hasn’t a care in the world.

“Happy?” At her nod, Emma stalks forward and makes a sweeping gesture with her arms, splitting the circle of woman down the middle as their chairs slide to either side and make room for her. “My mother?”

Regina folds her arms, expression serious and voice stern. “Under my protection.” Emma narrows her eyes but she stands firm, refusing to be intimidated as she adds, “I’ve seen you naked, dear, you don’t scare me.”

Pale lips twitch with an almost smile before Emma sighs. “Then you’ll just have to forgive me for this,” she says and waves her hand.

Regina braces herself as much as she can. She has been shot at, hit over the head, thrown through windows, walls, and on to cars— she expects impact, and she expects pain.

She doesn’t expect relocation, and stumbles forward as Emma’s magic dumps her elsewhere.

Taking a minute to regain her bearings, she lets out a breath, a little in relief but mostly in exasperation— with herself, with Emma, with her whole entire life. Even with the darkness in control as it is, Emma has proven yet again she doesn’t intend to hurt her. Honestly, her inability to trust Emma is starting to drive even her insane and she’s tempted to let her do what she wants with Snow and Charming, if only to make up for it.

With another groan, she looks around to see where it is Emma has sent her. She recognizes the room immediately as the hidden one inside her vault, and frowns in wonder at how the hell Emma knows about it.

She dismisses the question only a second later when her ears pick up on a voice nearby, and quickly flicks her wrist, appearing next to Emma as she mumbles down at her parents as if they weren’t currently unconscious and unable to hear her. Regina catches a few of the words, none of which surprise her. She particularly enjoys the phrase ‘midget loving do-gooders’ that Emma utters.

Less enjoyable is when Emma finally notices her and freezes her in place.

“I can’t decide what to do with them,” she admits with a pout. “I considered killing them, which— I know— would give me an extreme amount of pleasure but—”

“No it wouldn’t,” Regina interrupts, thankful she can at least talk while her limbs refuse to obey her commands.

Emma turns to stare at her. “I think I know what would bring me pleasure.”

She raises a brow and intentionally lowers her voice as she questions, “And I wouldn’t?”

Cheeks turning a rosy pink, Emma bites her lip and glances down. “She loves them,” Regina adds.

It is so clearly the wrong thing to say when emerald eyes snap up and the blush is gone. “She is me,” Emma growls, her expression contorting in anger.

“Then you love them too.”

“Not right now I don’t,” she snaps, briefly torn between scowling at her and scowling at her parents. She huffs and settles her gaze on Snow and Charming, clearly finding them both more deserving. “Right now I want to grab them by their throats and squeeze until something breaks.”

“You think _now_ will matter when you’ve calmed down and have to deal with the consequences for the rest of your life,” Regina asks, no longer as certain as she had been that she can stop Emma this time. It is a thought that terrifies her, not because it might mean two people will die, but because Emma will never recover from it. “I swear, Dark One, I will find a way to banish you if you do this. Emma loves them. _You_ love them. You kill them, and it will destroy you both.”

Emma raises her head, brow furrowing. “You promised,” she reminds her and even though she’s still angry, Regina feels hope filling her as she detects a slight whine that is borderline petulant too.

She would laugh, if it hadn’t sounded so pathetic. “And I don’t want to break it,” she replies, smiling softly—apologetically instead. “But I will if you harm yourself in any way.”

Watching the rest of that anger unravel and give way to the childish pout that she has come to know and adore from Emma more than most anything, she chuckles, no longer able nor willing to hold back when her chest is full to bursting with love. Emma releases her then, the magic holding her in place dissipating. She moves swiftly, grabbing Emma’s face in both hands as she stares into her eyes.

The darkness is there, waiting but tempered enough that Emma smiles hesitantly and Regina sighs, bringing their heads together. “I swear, it’s as if I’m in love with a 2 year old— your tempers are worse than Henry’s at that age.”

Emma closes her eyes and breathes in through her nose before she presses the rest of the way in and kisses her. “Thank you,” she says, head shaking as her lids flutter. “I don’t… One minute I was trying to apologize for hurting you—”

Regina snorts. “That’s what you call an apology?”

Green eyes rolls. “Being dark doesn’t make me any better with words.”

“Pity,” she teases, her hands dropping to shoulders before sliding around to the back of Emma’s neck. “If it helps, I do forgive you. I know you didn’t mean to.”

“It does,” Emma admits, slipping arms around her waist. “I even had this trick I was going to share with you that we could play on Blue and my parents, but I got distracted begging your forgiveness.”

Intrigued, Regina cocks an eyebrow. She might not loath any of them enough now to want them dead, but Dark One tricks could be fun. “Did you now?”

“I wanted to cheer you up.”

“That is…” She pauses to consider. She was hoping for elaboration on this trick but she refuses to ignore the words after they’d warmed her chest. “Oddly sweet.”

Emma wrinkles her nose. “I’m sure I’ll appreciate that later.”

Regina laughs, winding fingers through her hair and pulling lightly as she questions, “Too dark for compliments?”

“Just a smidgen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be longer but all I have left is dialogue, which I figure can come next chapter. Also, I kind of got distracted like Emma did.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT READ: I may have posted this a tad early, as in; before it's actually ready because I currently have a sinus infection, which means everything hurts and I really don't feel like doing anything at the moment, writing especially. So, this is a preemptive apology... possibly a terrible one.
> 
> Not so important, but relevant to the chapter;  
> 1) I realize I may be being a little too harsh on Snow.  
> 2) I also realize I'm justifying Emma's behaviour a little too much, due to my loving hatred of Snow.  
> 3) I feel bad about neither, but if it bothers anyone, rest assured; I am not my characters. 
> 
> ... I do think someone should straight up murder Blue, though.

Snow is slower to wake than Charming. Regina remembers a time when she lived with a grumpy Princess who tried her hardest to hate mornings because she wanted to be so much like her step-mother that it was almost endearing. It was endearing until Regina remembered she was caged, trapped in that life thanks to that little girl who couldn’t keep a secret. She would seethe then but in being reminded of those times long ago now, she simply sighs, curled against Emma while the two of them wait.

David didn’t want an explanation, so Emma hadn’t given him one but neither of them are delusional enough to believe they’ll have the same luck twice. While he busies himself in the kitchen cooking them lunch, they prepare themselves for the screeching, the tears, the righteous declarations and judgment of a woman too caught up in her ideas of a perfect life to understand there is no such thing.

In a land where curses condemn children to eternal sleeps— where monsters appear from thin air to wreak havoc, and ancient evils possess one of the kindest, lightest, most caring person any of them has ever had the pleasure of knowing, one might think it a realization a sensible woman could come to on her own.

When it comes to Snow White, though, they both know sensible is nothing short of idealistic hope, an expectation that has gone up in smoke long before the woman has even opened her eyes.

Snow groans as she wakes, lids fluttering before snapping open. Even from a distance, the way she stiffens is immediately apparent to anyone capable of reading body cues. In support, Regina places her hand on Emma’s thigh as two sets of eyes meet with one and Snow jerks into a seated position.

“What—” Snow gasps with dawning horror and Regina rolls her eyes. “Emma! You…”

The words fail her and she gapes at them both, lips parting only to close when nothing falls from her mouth.

“I knocked you out,” Emma offers after the third time. Short of that, Snow hasn’t a clue what she’d done and if this is her reaction to a little magic, Regina loathes to imagine how she’ll behave when she learns— “I then took you to Regina’s vault where I considered killing you.”

Yes, that.

Snow stares at her, face twisting in an entire array of conflicting emotions before Regina tires of looking at them and focuses on the hand Emma uses to caress her fingers. “Regina saved you… both of you,” Emma adds, not one who particularly enjoys silence, horrified or otherwise.

The worst part about it, in Regina’s opinion, is that she won’t lie— not when she is already dealing with the guilt of a previous one. Emma won’t apologize to her mother because she doesn’t regret letting the darkness take control of her. Snow might not deserve death, but she deserves _something_ and without knowing what that something is, Emma won’t regret something she _thought_ about doing but didn’t actually _do_.

She might have, had Regina not intervened, but unlike Snow White, neither of them are the types to focus on what ifs.

“Why?”

Regina flinches because the list of reasons Emma can pull from is endless. Apart, no one reason is enough to condemn a person to death but combined? Maybe it still isn’t enough. Maybe Emma overreacted and her reasons are nothing more than excuses to make herself feel better but the temptation— the temptation to make a person suffer and pay for all the wrong they’ve done you is at the very least _understandable_.

“Does it matter,” Emma asks and Regina blinks, lifting her head to stare at the side of her face. That wasn’t even close to the answer she was expecting.

“I could give you a hundred reasons,” Emma continues, paying her no mind. “Would you listen? Would you understand? Would you _care_? Or would you sit there, offering excuses, absolving yourself of any guilt you should feel for the things you’ve done that might make someone finally snap and give in to the desire to want you dead?”

Emma snorts in amusement and shakes her head. “Rather than sitting there, asking yourself what you might have done wrong, maybe you should consider what you’ve done _right_. What truly matters to you, Mom? Because it isn’t me. It isn’t your grandson, or the mother who has raised him for fourteen years now. If the things we do, the things we want and the way we choose to live don’t benefit you, you do your damnedest to try and change it, fuck what the rest of us want. Really, the question you should be asking, is why _wouldn_ _’t_ someone want to kill you? Especially the child you continuously abandon to suit your own warped sense of what is the right and _good_ thing to do.”

“A-abandon?” Snow turns, twisting on the couch, tone pleading as her feet hit the floor and she faces them. “Emma, everything I have done… everything your father and I have done was—”

“For you. For your people, never for me,” Emma interrupts. Sensing her anger, Regina captures her fingers and entwines them with her own, praying it’s enough to calm Emma before she takes another shot at killing Snow. “You abandoned me as a baby. You thought about abandoning me in Neverland, and now you turn your back on me, on what I have become because of a choice _you_ made when you split me in two.”

With a squeeze of her hand, Emma lets go and stands. “Take a good hard look, mother, because the monster you see me as, is the hero you condemned me to be,” she says, dismissing any response Snow might have given as she walks out of the room.

Regina watches her leave, a feeling of helplessness bringing her own irritation to the surface. She stands, having nothing to say to Snow and intent on following Emma to ensure she is alright before she checks on Charming to make sure he hasn’t burned down her kitchen.

Snow sucks in a breath, her voice wobbly when she speaks. “Regina…”

Regina pauses beneath the archway separating the den from the foyer. “I already told you,” she reminds her, “I am done being in the middle of you two.”

“I— I know, but… you saved me.”

She laughs humourlessly, head shaking as she replies, “No dear, I saved her.”

 

* * *

 

 

Emma sits at the counter, silent while David cooks and pretends he hasn’t yet noticed her. She knows he had by the way his shoulders stiffened when she entered, but doesn’t call him out on it. She’d be hesitant too if her kid had just tried to kill her.

Looking over her shoulder when she hears the rhythmic click of heels against hardwood floors, she smiles at Regina, glad she hadn’t stayed and subjected herself to Snow who is probably throwing herself a pity party right about now. She hadn’t thought about what she would say before she started speaking, and she thinks she might feel better for it than she otherwise might have.

Regina steps up beside her and leans down, kissing her on the lips. Her smiles widens. “What was that for?”

Regina gestures to her face. “That,” she says with a wink, then lifts her chin and sniffs. “What on earth is that smell?”

“Moussaka,” David replies, turning to face them as he pulls the towel from his shoulder and wipes his hands. “You didn’t have any eggplant, so I used potato instead.”

Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Regina looks down at her and says, “Your father taught you to cook, didn’t he?”

Emma snorts. “He wishes.”

David chuckles, nodding as she grins at him. “She taught me a few things, actually.”

Regina sighs and Emma pats her hip before she curls the hand around her waist and tugs her down into her lap. Regina huffs. “I’m self-taught,” Emma admits. “Constant hunger and little money are good motivators for learning.”

“You never told me that,” David says.

Emma shrugs. “I never told you a lot of things,” she points out.

Why would she? She doesn’t want his pity and other than Regina, that’s all anyone in this town ever offers her when her past is brought to light. If she wants false understanding and meaningless platitudes, she’d make an appointment with Archie and let loose but she doesn’t, and she won’t.

“Why did I think you couldn’t cook,” Regina asks, brow furrowing. “I mean, you did those burgers that day you invited yourself to dinner but that was expected. Then there was our date, and again this morning with breakfast.”

“You two went on a date,” David interjects and Emma nods.

“I invited her over to the house and cooked her favourite.”

He tilts his head. “Why didn’t you take her out somewhere?”

Emma screws up her face. “If I’d taken her to the only restaurant in town, not only would we have had people staring at us and making us both uncomfortable the entire time,” she reasons. Just thinking about it makes her uncomfortable. “But we’d also be the only thing anyone talked about for at least a month because these people have nothing better to do than stick their noses in things that aren’t their business.”

“Fair—” He closes his mouth as the sound of the front door closing reaches them, and shoots the two of them a helpless look.

Emma resists rolling her eyes because _of course_ her mother chooses to run. At least now she knows where she gets it from. “Go,” she says, smiling softly. “I’m sure Regina knows what to do with that.”

“Yes, I imagine standing there and watching it not burn is far too complicated for your daughter,” Regina drawls, smacking her hand when Emma tries to prevent her from standing. “See your father out, dear.”

Sighing as if walking her father to the door is the most inconvenient thing in the world, Emma rises and follows him out of the kitchen. He stops in the foyer and turns to her, his expression hard to read as he takes a step forward. “I said I didn’t want to know but…”

She nods and gestures to herself as she says, “I blamed her— both of you, for this.”

He bows his head, shoulders slumped as he shakes it from side to side. “Maybe we do need to talk,” he concedes after a moment, eyes lifting to meet hers. “Later,” he adds. “Preferably while drunk.”

“That’s entirely up to you,” she replies, leaving out the fact she won’t be drinking if he really does want to know why she wanted to kill him. Her impulse control is poor enough as is. “For now, you might want to make sure she isn’t lying in the middle of the road somewhere.”

“Right.” He nods, pausing as if he’s forgotten something before he nods again. He reaches out and curls a hand at the back of her head. She lets him pull her in and kiss her forehead like he used to, then steps back. “We’ll talk soon, kiddo.”

She waits for the door to close behind him before she turns and heads back to the kitchen, dropping back down onto the stool she previously occupied. Sometimes she longs for the days when she didn’t have parents. It’d been easier to pretend she didn’t care then. Now she has all these _feelings_ , no idea what to do with them besides repress them and hope the darkness inside of her doesn’t use them as a reason to go postal again.

Looking down at the plate Regina sets in front of her, she lets out a breath and tries not to grimace. “His eggplant one sucked,” she says, looking back up as Regina chuckles.

“Had I not tasted and approved this one myself while you were gone, I’d have burned it on purpose and thrown it out.”

Her chest warms and she grins, grateful. “And you said I was sweet,” she teases, plucking a fork from her hand.

“Oddly,” Regina corrects, rolling her eyes as she sits across from her. “I said you were oddly sweet— and that is now two explanations you owe me.”

Fork raised halfway to her mouth, Emma stops to squint at her, confused. “Did we just change conversations?”

“We did,” Regina admits, “and you have failed to answer two of my previous questions. I thought you might indulge me while you stuff your face.”

Emma smirks, fully intent on doing that as she says, “Shoot.”

“First. Why did I think you can’t cook?”

“We had this conversation months ago when you were throwing back whiskey like a jock getting ready for midterms,” she drawls. “I’m not a mind reader, Regina.”

On one or two occasions, she has wished she was, if only to see how Regina’s mind has convinced her she _can_. The logical side of her, though, is perfectly content in not knowing how to read someone’s mind. The things people probably think about her now— if she could hear them? Her body count would probably be through the roof.

“You let me think it.”

“True.” At the silent stare that demands more, she sighs. “I know how to cook, but I don’t particularly enjoy it and now that I have the money, I do it as little as possible.”

Regina nods. “But you did it for Henry?”

“Yeah,” she says around a mouthful, chewing and swallowing quickly when Regina glares at her. “He got tired of the diner pretty quick. I made him promise not to tell anyone I could cook, and made him whatever he wanted whenever he stayed over.”

Regina narrows her eyes and her voice drops an octave or two as she questions, “Whatever he wanted?”

“Not like that,” she counters, dismissing the accusation with a wave of her hand. “Your son is a freak,” she adds. “He was always asking for crap I’d never made before, but I learned other things for him that he said you sometimes cooked. You both really like chicken, don’t you?”

Regina straightens with a quiet chuckle and admits, “Henry does, at least.”

“You don’t?”

She tilts her head from side to side, face softening with the smile that spreads. “I learned for him.”

Emma grins. “Look at us. Likely the two most powerful women in town, and he has us wrapped around his finger.”

“Indeed,” Regina agrees, smiling all the wider, as if she couldn’t possibly be any more proud of their son and his conniving little ways; like mother, like son, Emma supposes.

“What was the other explanation I supposedly _owe_ you,” she asks, more than a little curious.

“The trick you mentioned.” Regina raises a brow. “You said you wanted to share, and then got distracted… again.”

 “Oh!” She laughs. This entire time, she had a feeling she was forgetting something. “Wow, I completely forgot about that.”

Regina gives her that _you_ _’re an idiot_ look that is both touching and mildly insulting in one. “Honestly.”

“Hey, don’t be like that.” She pouts but it doesn’t last now that’s she’s been reminded of her little trick. “I was thinking of convincing my parents to free Blue—”

“What?”

“Well I’m obviously fucked considering what I did instead and Snow probably won’t be speaking to me any time soon—”

“Not that,” Regina snaps impatiently.

“No, I know.” Emma rolls her eyes. “I was thinking we could tell her she can escape punishment by going back to the Enchanted Forest. The trick is that it’s not the Enchanted Forest. It’s a parallel universe, kind of, and there’s no magic so she’d just be… cursed-Blue, I guess?”

“There are parallel universes?”

“Oh. Was that a Dark One secret?” Emma frowns, then shrugs. She’s still getting the hang of what can and shouldn’t be shared, and it isn’t like she can _un_ share it. “Yeah, there are.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently being sick for 2+ weeks motivates my muse to write smut. Not sure I understand it, but I'm going to assume no one is about to complain. This chapter is also kind of all over the place, but I'm going to blame that on being sick as well.

Regina rolls to her side, splaying a hand across Emma’s stomach. “What other secrets are you hiding up in that head of yours?”

“Wouldn’t be secrets if I just told you,” she answers wryly, grinning as nails dig in to her flesh.

It isn’t the first time Regina has tried to pry the secrets out of her. She isn’t against sharing, even the ones she thinks might be better left where they are, but the last time she resisted had somehow ended with the two of them in bed. She sees no reason to give in now, not when there might be a few more attempts at persuasion to be had beforehand.

“You owe me,” Regina growls into her ear and she laughs, chest rumbling with the sound.

“I do, do I?” The hand on her stomach flattens as fingers start to stroke her flesh. She sighs, enjoying the warmth and desire the touch reignites inside of her. “You don’t play fair, Madam Mayor.”

“No,” Regina agrees and Emma closes her eyes with a soft, heady groan as those same fingers dip into the wet heat between her thighs. “I don’t.”

She expects them to disappear then, taken away until she caves and gives Regina what she wants. Instead, Regina thrusts into her and she gasps, eyes flying open as her back arches at the unexpected intrusion. “Oh god,” she moans and shoots a hand down to grab hold of her wrist in case Regina changes her mind. “Don’t stop.”

“I should,” Regina purrs, though she curls her fingers and presses a thumb to her clit as she says, “You don’t deserve it.”

Emma shakes her head in agreement before she mirrors Regina, rolling on to her side with the wrist still clasped tightly in her hand. She clamps her thighs together and lets go, using the hand to grab Regina around the waist and pull them as close as humanly possible. She captures dark, pouted lips with her own and slides her tongue between them, their moans simultaneous.

She doesn’t deserve it, not even a little bit. But that doesn’t mean she can’t earn it.

“I’ll tell you,” she promises against her mouth. Sliding the hand down to the back of her knee, she forces Regina to drape a leg over her thigh. “But I want this first. All of it,” she adds, nibbling at a lower lip. “No more teasing. Nothing slow. I’m going to make you come until you beg me to stop and you’re going to return the favour. Then, and only then, will I share… _everything_.”

Regina pulls back, studying her a moment before she bares her teeth in a grin. “You have yourself a deal, Dark One.” She wiggles her fingers and Emma shudders. “I do have a… slight alteration, however.”

Before she can ask what it is, her legs part like magic and Regina tugs her hand free. In the next instant, she’s on her back and Regina is straddling her stomach. Emma stares up at her in surprise. She knew Regina could be quick when she wanted to be, but _damn_.

“Have I ever told you how fucking hot you are,” she questions, voice little more than a breathless murmur as she runs her hands all along Regina’s side.

“You’re generally more action oriented,” Regina replies, eyes heavy lidded. She slowly licks her lips and sucks the bottom one into her mouth, the indent of her teeth visible when she lets it go and adds, “Not that I don’t appreciate hearing it from time to time.”

Making a mental note to tell her more often, Emma hums and palms her breasts. Regina arches into her hands, a quiet little moan falling from lips as Emma teases her nipples between thumb and forefingers. She thought the alteration might have been Regina changing the order of her plan, but apparently all she wants is to be on top. Emma has zero problems with it— prefers it even. Not only is the sight of Regina above her, as regal as ever, arousing but the feel, the weight, the heat of her does things to Emma that she can’t even begin to describe.

Slave to her pleasure as she is, Regina appears _powerful_ and when it comes to her libido, a powerful Regina is all Emma needs before she is overwhelmed by the sheer want she has for this woman.

Squeezing her breasts and drawing another little moan from those lips, she lets her hands fall to Regina’s waist and tugs urgently. Regina smirks but says nothing as she rises to her knees, one brow raised in curious amusement. Emma nods, borderline begging with eyes that almost roll into the very back of her head when nearly every sense is suddenly filled. Her sight, her scent— so close to her mouth is Regina’s arousal, that she swears she can _taste_ it.

“Jesus,” she groans before she surges, latching on to her sex and wasting no time as she delves between soft, pink folds with her tongue.

Regina swears, the loud, “Fuck,” seemingly bursting from her without conscious thought. Emma peers up at her from between warm, olive thighs and feels herself grin at the look of surprise she wears.

It doesn’t last. Regina grabs hold of her hair, taking fistfuls and clawing at her scalp, the two of them moaning in tandem. Emma closes her eyes and willingly surrenders herself to the sensations of pain and pleasure coalescing. Her scalp burns while her stomach warms and her mouth waters, becoming slick, hungry and eager for more of the warm, sweet juices that coat her lips and tongue.

Seconds blur into minutes before time loses all meaning. She works her tongue in and out of Regina, thrusting, curling, rolling. Regina moans, whimpers, gasps, fingers twisting in her hair and pulling even tighter as she rocks against her mouth. The murmurs are quiet, muffled beneath the weight of thighs covering her ears but the desperation is there— clear; breathless pleas and throated whines for more, for harder and faster.

Regina is close, and Emma longs to feel her clench around her fingers but dismisses the yearning as quickly as it comes. She’s no where near finished, not by a long shot. Regina will come, again and again, and there will be plenty of time to use her hands later.

Extracting her tongue, Regina cries out at the loss, then cries out again as Emma sucks her clit into her mouth. Emma opens her eyes, flicking the stiff bundle with the tip of her tongue. She savours every little sound and follows every cue, using all the tricks she has to throw Regina over the edge as she licks, sucks, nibbles and fucks.

Like a chant, Regina calls her name over and over, her voice rising in pitch. The last is a scream as her back stiffens, thighs clamping down harder and nails digging even deeper. She then shudders and violently comes, filling her mouth with delicious, thick heat as Emma moans and sucks down every last drop.

 

* * *

 

 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Emma gasps, head smacking against a pillow as she falls back to the bed.

Regina smirks, entirely too pleased with herself. She rises from between Emma’s thighs and on hands and knees, she crawls up her body until they’re face to face. If anyone deserves a few measly secrets from the Dark One, then it is definitely her after that performance. “I’m impressed,” she admits, bowing her head and stealing a kiss Emma is clearly too weak to return as her lips refuse to move against her. Given the number of orgasms she’s had, Regina isn’t surprised. She _is_ surprised Emma is still conscious, however, hence; impressed.

“I…” Emma takes a breath, writhing beneath her a moment before she settles. “I think I…you— Ugh. I died. You killed me, Regina.”

“Oh dear,” she purrs, grinning. “How unfortunate.”

Emma glares up at her, the look potentially ruined by the glaze still covering her eyes. Regina likes it and grins even wider.

“If you’re trying to look angry with me, you’re failing rather wonderfully,” she says, lowering herself down until she’s straddling her once more.

“In fact,” she adds, biting her lip as she rubs her heat against Emma’s stomach. “I quite enjoy it.”

Emma looses a whine unlike any she has heard yet and she laughs, stilling her hips. She can imagine how this might go were she to continue teasing. Emma would find the strength, somehow. Flip her over, take her and take her hard as she is so beautifully adept at doing. It would be over in seconds and rather than Emma being boneless, laying here like a helpless little puddle of satisfaction, it’d be her instead.

Delightfully appealing as the thought is, she wants what was promised more— for the time being, at least. “I do believe you owe me something.”

“Mmm,” Emma hums as her eyes fall shut. “Give me a minute.”

Regina obliges, busying herself with tracing her cheekbones with the tip of a finger. She has always found Emma to be positively gorgeous, but in these short moments after sex, Emma’s beauty is heightened by the blissful expression she wears and it never fails to enthrall her.

Pale lips twitch with a smile, drawing her attention down. She drags her finger to them, trailing around them, over them— _between_ them as Emma sucks it into her mouth, and she moans.

“No,” she says with a chuckle, snapping out of it and snatching her hand back. “You promised.”

Emma heaves a sigh and cracks an eye open. “Spoil sport,” she says, mock pouting before she squirms and props herself upright against the headboard. “You know I have… hundreds of these things, right?”

Shocked, Regina stares at her. She didn’t think there were quite so many. “No,” she confesses, brow furrowing. “Really?”

Emma nods. “My power isn’t limitless, but it’s pretty damn close,” she says, then tilts her head. “I guess that’s one secret. How many do I owe you exactly?”

Regina considers it. She thought maybe Emma would give her three or four before she lost interest and decided to pass the time another way. It was, in part, how the two of them ended up in bed together. It was less about getting Emma to admit anything, and more about distracting herself. Now that she knows how many of them there are, she’s interested again but much less certain than she was before.

When minutes have passed and she still hasn’t responded, Emma smiles softly. “If it helps, most of the secrets I have are about my powers and the deals others have made over the centuries,” she offers.

“Centuries,” Regina repeats, latching on to the word. “How old is the Dark… are you?”

Head shaking, Emma smiles even wider before she darts forward, kissing her on the lips. “The Dark One,” she corrects. “I’m still only 32. I know how I get about that, and I’m… ecstatic you’re trying to adjust but in this case, we’re talking separate entities. The darkness itself is… I honestly don’t know— thousands of years old, I imagine. Most people think it started with Nimue, but she was just the first person it possessed.”

Regina nods. The stories that exist surrounding the Dark One and how it came to be have always been scarce and lacking in any real details. No one really knows where it came from, when or why. She’s wondered on occasion, but ever since Emma became the Dark One, she’s tried not to think on it too deeply.

“Are you immortal,” she questions. It is the one thing she has allowed herself to wonder after that day in her office when she’d been talking to David. Emma didn’t seem to know the answer then, but perhaps now that she’s had time to think about it…

“Still not sure on that,” Emma admits with a shrug. “Rumple is over 200, so I’d think yes but who knows?”

Regina deflates. In a way, she is glad Emma will live a long time. Immortality isn’t at all worth the price of being the Dark One for all of eternity, but the idea brings her some comfort because a world without Emma isn’t a world she wants to think about.

At the same time though, knowing she might live forever is also disappointing. Knowing Emma might outlive everyone she loves, that she might one day be alone, no one around to love her, to help her, to take care of her— a world that is one day without Emma doesn’t seem quite so unappealing after all.

“Okay,” Emma says, piercing through her thoughts. “I know I said I would tell you everything, but I am not liking that look at all.”

Regina takes a breath and tries to smile. “I’m sorry, my mind went…”

“Somewhere extremely undesirable,” Emma finishes, cupping her face and drawing a thumb over her cheek. “I want to tell you not to think about it, but I know how well that works for you so maybe you want to share?”

Regina immediately shakes her head. She is more than happy not to think about it any more than she already has. “No,” she says, taking the hand from her face. She brings it to her lips and kisses each knuckle in silent gratitude. “In this case, I’d prefer the first option.”

She can see the hesitation in her eyes and although she wants to insist Emma leave it alone, she knows there is little she can say to get her way if Emma decides to be persistent.

When she eventually acquiesces with a nod, Regina breathes a quiet sigh of relief and lowers herself down. She lies on top of her, finding the comfort she needs without having to ask for it as Emma winds both arms around her and holds her tight.

“If you change your mind…”

“You’ll be the first to know,” she mumbles against her neck, smiling softly when she feels the kiss at her temple.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey Ma.”

Emma turns, glancing over her shoulder to where Henry stands in the foyer, kicking his shoes off. “Kid.”

He moves into the den, swinging the backpack from his shoulder and dumping it beside the table before flinging himself onto the couch next to her. “Where’s Mom?”

“Sleeping.”

“Oh.” He frowns, his eyes shining with concern when he asks, “Is she alright?”

“Yeah.” She nods, trying to smile and failing miserably. “It’s been a rough day is all.”

His frown deepens. “What happened?”

Emma sighs. He would find out the truth one way or another and while she knows it’ll be better if he finds out from her and not any of the other three involved, it doesn’t make what she needs to tell him any easier.

“I did something…” She struggles to find an appropriate word. She doesn’t regret it. She _can_ _’t_ regret it but she knows she should. If he could read her thoughts, he would tell her she should. “…bad.”

“How bad?”

She shakes her head and almost laughs, half expecting questions about murder and evil. He’s growing up, learning to question before he jumps straight to assumptions and it is— terrifying, but also really fucking refreshing. She releases a breath, no longer stiff and appearing as though she is bracing herself as she relaxes slightly. “I abducted your grandparents.”

“What? Why?” He jerks forward and looks around the room, his eyes wide. “Where are they? Are they here?”

“No no. They’re fine. They’re at home,” she assures him before she realizes she actually has no idea where they are. “I think.”

“Oh okay.” He slumps back, expression relieved. “Why though?”

“I…” _Wanted to kill them?_ While true, it hadn’t been more than a passing thought. She’d decided that she _didn_ _’t_ want to kill them even before Regina came and tried to convince her not to. “I wanted to punish them.”

“For abandoning you?”

“N…” She pauses with the denial on the tip of her tongue, the question fully registering. She stares at him, torn between surprise and confusion. “Kind of? How did you… What?”

He smiles lightly, one shoulder lifting in a shrug as he says, “It’s kind of a theme in this family, Ma.”

“What,” she repeats, a sudden heaviness sitting in the pit of her stomach.

“You, mom, me, dad, grandpa.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Abandonment,” he says slowly, brow raised. “Your parents abandoned you, mom’s parents abandoned her, you—”

Emma swallows and squeezes her eyes shut. There is a pattern; she can see it now, but it isn’t anywhere near the same. “Stop.”

“But—”

“No,” she growls, eyes snapping open. She glares at him, the anger swift. She thought they were passed this, that he understood and had forgiven her for giving him up. “Your mother wasn’t abandoned, she just had shitty fucking parents and your father ran away— he made a _choice_. You can feel how you feel, I can’t change that but I didn’t abandon you because of some stupid prophecy that promised you’d return to me later and save me, and everyone else. I let you go because I _loved_ you and wanted you to have a better future. Don’t you dare sit there and claim it to be the same damn thing.”

He flinches away from her. “I didn’t mean—”

Before he can explain himself or apologize— whatever it is he intends to do, Regina reveals herself, voice hard as she interrupts him. “Miss Swan.”

Both heads whip around to see her stood in the foyer, hands on hips and glaring daggers at them both. Emma quickly averts her gaze but her eyes are drawn back the second Henry launches himself from the couch. He tries to block Regina’s view of her as though he wants to protect her from his mother’s anger, and Emma feels her throat begin to tighten.

“I made a mistake,” he blurts out, raising his hands and taking a step forward.

Emma chuckles. She can’t help herself. Even knowing the watery sound has given away the fact she’s on the verge of crying, his approach in trying to calm Regina is the kind she imagines one might use when trying to calm a bull about to charge and viciously gore them to death.

It is both touching and amusing in equal measure.

“Henry,” Regina says, ignoring Emma entirely as she softens, hands falling away from her hips. “You’re just—”

“A child,” he interrupts. He doesn’t sound upset or even resigned and Emma wonders how many times he’s had to listen to Regina call him that before he no longer felt the need to lash out in protest. “I know. I’m 14 but I’m a kid, I’ll always be a kid to you— to ma, but I want to understand.”

Emma meets her gaze and Regina looks at her with a look of helplessness as Henry continues, “I didn’t understand before when I thought you were the Evil Queen and it was a mistake, I want to do better this time and I know Emma will sometimes lose her temper.”

Regina returns her attention to him, frowning as Emma stares at his back, wanting to reach out all of a sudden and yank him into her embrace. “We both know that; sometimes she can’t help it…” Henry looks over his shoulder at her and Emma swallows thickly, heart aching at the acceptance in his eyes. He turns back to Regina and adds, “But mom, sometimes she shouldn’t have to either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you were curious about where Henry stands on Emma as the Dark One, so hopefully the last scene has given you some idea about that. There should be plot in the next chapter but, you know, muse's bitch and all that. I won't promise anything I might not deliver on.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine some part of this constitutes plot, but fuck if I know which part.

“I’m sorry.”

Regina sighs. After Henry had given her his speech, he’d run upstairs to give them some time alone. It’s been roughly ten minutes since and these are the first words said between them. “You heard him,” she replies, leaning against the door frame, eyes closed. “I don’t approve of how you spoke to him, but he is right. You shouldn’t bottle your emotions, certainly not all of the time.”

She isn’t angry. Well— she is, but she shouldn’t be. She can’t be when she knows Henry will disapprove. He said his peace and forgave Emma, and she intends to respect his decision regardless of how much she wants to threaten to maim Emma if she ever so much as raises her voice to him again. “I take it that was similar to the last talk the two of you had,” she says, still as curious about that one as she was the day she learned about it.

“There was less begging on my part this time around,” Emma answers, a smile in her voice.

Regina opens her eyes and mirrors the softness in her expression as she pushes from the door. Whether seconds, weeks, months or decades; anger is tiring. She’d almost forgotten just how tiring and she doesn’t want to fight. Not now, hopefully not ever again.

Emma pats the cushion beside her and she falls down to it with a groan. All she’s ever wanted is to be happy but even at her happiest there are still far too many things getting in her way. “Maybe you should use that trick of yours and the three of us can runaway together,” she says, head rolling as she rests it against the back of the couch. A vacation might do them the world of good. “Screw the fairy.”

“I’d rather not,” Emma responds wryly. “If it’s all the same to you.”

She snorts, brow raised as she questions, “Worried I’ll murder you when no one else is around to protect you?”

The pitiful look Emma gets when she pouts is enough to tame her ire completely, and Regina chuckles. “I wasn’t but now that you mention it…”

“No need,” she drawls with a smirk. “For some godforsaken reason, I still love you far too much.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Well that’s a relief,” she says and slumps back against the couch, nudging her with a shoulder. “I mean it though.”

Regina dismisses the words as she turns her attention to the ceiling and closes her eyes again.  Henry’s words are ringing in her ears and she’s come to the not so startling realization that Emma has apologized an awful lot now that she’s no longer holed up inside her house and avoiding everyone. While, yes, she certainly has reason enough to do so, none of them should forget that Emma has been dealing with her darkness all on her own. They tried to help but in retrospect their help has consisted of nothing more than demanding Emma talk to them and help them figure out how to ‘cure’ her. There’s been little in the way of trying to understand her and what she’s going through.

The more Regina thinks about it, the more she realizes that until two months earlier they’d all been rather quite selfish in trying to bring back the woman they all thought Emma was and it is within this thought that she realizes she’s finally starting to accept what she’d claimed to accept weeks ago; this is Emma. Maybe she isn’t the Savior or the Princess that everyone else wants but maybe she never really was to begin with, and maybe that’s perfectly okay.

Hell. Maybe it isn’t but what matters the most is that Emma is who _she_ wants to be and, like it or not, everyone else is simply going to have to find a way to deal with that themselves.

“Perhaps you can work on toning it down a little,” she murmurs, shifting enough to rest her head on a shoulder. Emma slides an arm behind her, curling around her hip and placing a hand on her stomach, and she sighs softly, content. “We really should be focused on Blue. The longer we wait to figure out what we’re going to do, the more time she’ll have to convince your mother to free her.”

Emma hums uselessly and Regina huffs. She knows that sound, all too well. She’s giving Emma an out of a conversation neither of them truly want to have, and Emma is considering _not_ taking it like she should. It could end in disaster and, for her, that’s reason enough to avoid it completely.

“Emma,” she says her name like a warning. Like a threat she’ll have no problem following through if Emma forces them down this road. “I forgive you. Let it go.”

The breath Emma takes is loud in the otherwise silent room and she doesn’t even _need_ to say anything. Regina can hear it all; the apologies, the promises to do better, to at least _try_ next time. She growls lowly, overcome suddenly with the desire to _smack_ her senseless before she feels the kiss against the top of her head and takes a breath of her own.

“I want to kill Blue,” Emma admits, mumbling the words into her hair.

Regina snorts because if there has been anything obvious about Emma in the recent weeks, then it is _that_. She is definitely not confused about what Emma _wants_ to do. Unfortunately for them, they’re both aware it is something neither of them _can_ do, not without upsetting a good number of people they care about.

Even if they could, part of her wonders if Blue truly deserves death. She certainly has no love for the fairy, but if the Evil Queen _and_ Rumplestiltskin can survive after all the manipulation and death they’ve dealt, then surely the fairy deserves _some_ form of forgiveness for the things she’s done.

It isn’t a thought she intends to share. Given Emma’s clear need to avenge the wrong that’s been done to her from the day she was born, Regina knows it won’t go over well. Emma’s idea of forgiveness extends only to those closest to her and if she reminds her of everything Rumple did in an effort to spare Blue her wrath, then it might very well backfire and get them both killed in the process.

At least by not mentioning it, she has a chance to spare them both what could potentially be rather gruesome deaths. While she continues to lack any regret whatsoever in letting Emma deal with Arthur, she can’t quite forget the image of his remains painted across main street.

“I know,” she replies calmly, feeling the stirring of a darkness she thought content until just a few hours ago. Emma is getting restless, and it bodes well for no one. “Is there a way we can enact your plan without involving your parents?”

“I’ve been thinking about that.” Regina raises her head and opens her eyes, curious. She cocks an eyebrow, impatient that Emma doesn’t immediately elaborate, and earns herself another eye roll. “That cell isn’t as impenetrable— or, I guess, inescapable is the better word— as Blue would have everyone believe.”

Regina frowns. “Wouldn’t that mean she can escape without anyone else’s help?” If so, then it’s possible she already has and no one would know because no one has bothered to check on her since.

Not to her knowledge, any way.

Emma shakes her head though, which leads her to believe perhaps Blue isn’t aware of it and she’s about to learn another secret Rumple kept to himself. She wonders if the excitement of such a prospect will ever be something she dreads.

“I doubt she knew,” Emma says. “When M—om and I were in the Enchanted Forest, there was a piece of parchment with squid ink… it let us escape the cell after Hook locked us in there.”

Regina grimaces at the mention of the pirate. However long he remains out of their lives won’t be nearly long enough but she vows then that if he ever returns, she’s going to kill him, slowly.

“I don’t think anyone ever mentioned that.”

“I was more concerned with the ogre that wanted to kill me, and fighting off the crazy bitch who tried to tear my heart out,” Emma deadpans. Regina glares at her and she bites her lip, stifling a smile as she shrugs. “I guess the piece of paper with my name written all over it in squid ink that I used to escape an inescapable prison cell is fairly low down on the list of memorable events”

Apparently finding something amusing about what she’s just said, Emma laughs suddenly and Regina startles, taken back by the sound as she blinks at her in confusion.

“Sorry,” Emma offers, grinning as she explains, “It just hit me how stalker-ish that sounds, and how… not bothered by it I was at the time. Guess I’m used to it.”

Regina immediately thinks of Hook again and how long he’d hounded Emma before she’d finally caved and given him a chance— a chance that anyone with a brain had seen was wasted on him. She grimaces a second time, well beyond _done_ with sparing that insignificant little man any more thought. “If you could refrain from reminding me of your terrible choices in the past, I would very much appreciate it.”

Emma smiles warmly and the arm around her waist tightens as she leans in and kisses her cheek. Regina softens considerably with the addition of the, “My bad,” whispered into her ear and the affectionate nuzzle of one poorly-named Dark One.

“Mmm,” she hums noncommittally, hopeful she can coax the lips that trail along her jaw into giving her more before she’ll consider forgiveness.

When Emma obliges her happily and nibbles at her throat, she tilts her head and offers up as much skin to that wonderfully skilled mouth as possible. She has a feeling that come tomorrow morning she’ll have plenty of evidence of the path Emma takes in the form of a few hickeys but, until then, she finds she doesn’t care and welcomes the kiss Emma eventually bestows on her.

“Now look what you’ve done,” she husks, tangling a hand in her hair as Emma tries to pull back. “You’ve gone and distracted us both.”

Emma grins. “Would you really rather talk about Blue right now?”

Before she can reply, her stomach chooses then to growl and remind her of the time. Regina glances down at it, brow furrowed, before she glances up at the clock and sighs. “Evidently, I would rather eat,” she says and kisses her lightly before she releases her. “We can finish this… discussion… later.”

“Discussion,” Emma echoes, amusement in her voice as she wiggles her eyebrows. “Right.”

Regina rolls her eyes, using the hand previously in Emma’s hair to cover her face and push her away. “Go annoy your son before I decide you should make dinner.”

Emma gasps in mock horror. Regina smacks her shoulder and stands, head shaking as another pout forms along thin, pink lips. “While you’re at it, you can figure out a way to procure squid ink,” she adds, wholly uninterested in trying to solve _that_ problem herself given her thoughts on what it might entail and exactly how disturbing they are.

“No need,” Emma says, rising beside her and sharing nothing more than the, “I have a better plan,” she throws over a shoulder as she saunters from the room.

 

* * *

 

Having the memories of all the former Dark One’s is a little more complicated than Emma makes it out to be when speaking of them. She doesn’t get them all at once, that part has always been true but when she does get them, they aren’t always helpful. There are a lot of images in her head, from the deals made over the centuries, to a many number of moments in time where she would have preferred it if privacy actually meant something.

Nimue and Merlin, Rumple and Blue, Rumple and Cora, Rumple and Belle; were anyone to ever ask, she could now confirm what every single one of them looked like while in the throes of passion— as well as a many number of women who, for some reason that will remain unknown to her, were interested in men like Gorgon and Zoso.

It is enough to scar anyone for life.

Luckily for her, while seated on the couch, savoring the warmth of Regina against her, the memories involved were of the former persuasion. Any involving the latter were all of the two of them earlier that afternoon, which Emma thought was a nice change as her time with Regina is one of few moments in life that don’t make her want to gouge her own eyes out.

Arousal is a far better feeling than horror, she’s decided, and deals— deals are certainly more useful than unwanted, explicit imagery.

When she first changed, she’d been adamant she wouldn’t be like any of the other Dark Ones. Deals, while they did still appeal to her thanks to the darkness inside of her, weren’t of interest to her specifically. No one had anything she wanted, and what she did want she now had.

There have been a few instances where someone has approached her seeking to make a deal and she has turned all but one of them away. The power it had taken her to retrieve Killian’s ship had been a small price to pay in order to rid herself of him, more especially because she likes to imagine the moment he realized he had zero control of the course the Jolly Roger took. She also likes to think trapping him in Neverland makes up for the absolute waste of time dating him had been.

The deal she is considering now will be just as selfish, but far more selfless than any of the hundreds, if not thousands of deals other Dark One’s have made. Directly, she’ll get nothing in return except the promise of safety for Regina and Henry. Indirectly, if any harm comes to either of them, Blue will be the one who suffers no matter who is responsible.

Getting the fairy to agree to such a deal will take some work, but once she ensures there is no other way to escape the cell, Blue won’t have any choice.

The one big, glaring downside to it is Blue will be free and any time they cross each other’s paths, she’ll have to curb her desire to wrap a hand around the fairy’s throat. The upside, is that she won’t have to convince either of her parents. Once they find out what she’s done, she can tell them she lied and then they can all go on with their lives, hopefully wanting to avoid her as much as she wants to avoid them.

“Ma.”

Coming back to herself, Emma blinks at the TV where a giant PAUSED sign flashes on screen. Right. Rather than annoy him like Regina— jokingly, she assumes— told her to, she’d watched Henry race around sharp corners like a pro, taking and keeping the lead in his little video game almost from start to finish. She’d spaced out after the third or fourth race due to how _boring_ she realized the constant winning was. At least watching David try and play these games, and constantly crashing and burning, was amusing.

“Ma!”

“Ugh,” she groans, jerking her head to the side and back in an attempt to stop him from shouting in her ear again. “What?”

He grins in the face of her scowl. “Mom called us for dinner,” he says, rocking the bed as he bounces off the side. “Race you.”

 

* * *

 

Regina eyes the familiar puff of smoke that appears a few inches in front of her. If she hadn’t paused to fetch them all something to drink, she’d have walked straight into it. As Emma materializes, she hears the sound of running footsteps on the stairs and opens her mouth. Emma raises a hand, bringing a finger to her lips as Henry rounds the corner into the dining room.

“Ma,” he whines. “You cheated.”

Emma smirks and they both turn to him as she says, “That depends on whose rules I’m following.”

He frowns. “Huh?”

“Your rule says magic is cheating,” she explains. “Your mother’s rule says no running in the house.”

Regina chuckles in understanding as it dawns. “In other words,” she drawls, “she cheated but she’s more scared of me than she is of you.”

Thumb cocked in her direction, Emma nods. “She gets me,” she says and pulls out a chair. She sits before tilting her head back, looking up at Regina as she questions, “What’s cooking, good looking?”

“One,” Regina replies as she bends down to kiss her. “It’s already cooked, and that saying is therefore asinine and two,” she adds, straightening and waving her hand, their dinner appearing on the table. “You’re an idiot.”

Her chest warms at Emma’s grin. “You say the sweetest things.”

Moving to the head of the table and taking her seat, she responds dryly, “I try.”

“Geez, get a room.” Their gazes snap to Henry as their brows rise in tandem. His cheeks redden and he mumbles a, “What,” around the forkful of potato he shoves into his mouth.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten your heroic rescue,” Emma teases him, grinning all the wider as his face turns an even brighter red. Regina bites the inside of her cheek as the warmth she feels spreads. “You _like_ us like this.”

“I like _you_ not burned to a crisp,” he counters. “Mom would’ve kicked your a— uh, butt.”

Emma nods— wisely, in Regina’s opinion. “True,” she agrees, then adds, “But I think you’re underestimating my ability to… persuade her.”

Regina flushes instantly, horrified as her thoughts immediately fall on exactly _how_ Emma might persuade her away from the anger she’d been feeling at the time. Even more horrifying is the way her stomach rolls in response to the images bombarding her brain and she realizes they’re turning her on— at the dinner table, and in front of their son no less. 

It takes Henry a moment before his expression contorts, nose scrunched. “Ewww. Mom!”

Emma starts to laugh and Regina uses the opportunity to slip a hand beneath the table. She presses it against her stomach and clears her throat in an effort to not scar him further before she chides them both. “Emma, stop traumatizing our son. And Henry, unless you’d like to be in therapy for the rest of your life, stop teasing your mother.”

Though neither of them say a word, she recognizes the look that passes between them and shakes her head as they turn on her, their pouts perfectly matching one another. This is what she gets, she supposes, for not choosing a side in their little back and forth.

She rolls her eyes, deciding to lead by example as she turns her attention to her plate and says, “Eat your dinner, children.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff. More annoying David. Another FTB...

The next morning, Emma offers to walk Regina to work and she accepts. It’s a nice day and her office isn’t too far, though she did have to rethink her heels before they left the house. They’d dropped Henry off at the bus stop, and stopped in at Granny’s for their coffee and now they walk, side by side in companionable silence. She thought perhaps Emma wanted to use the short time they had to share her new plan with her but as that doesn’t seem to be the case, she is surprised to realize she doesn’t exactly mind.

She is disappointed to a degree, but like all things when it comes to one Emma Swan, she is conflicted by the relief she also feels. She doesn’t know if it’s because she’s simply too tired to bother caring anymore, or if it’s because she’s finally managed to grasp that elusive trust in Emma she continuously claims to have. Whatever the reason is, she’s come to the conclusion during their walk that it isn’t important enough to dwell on. They are happy, utterly and completely for the first time in a long while and that— that means more to her than anything else.

It is strange, but lovely. She enjoys the feeling, wants more of it and wonders if they might replicate it by doing this everyday; the two of them walking Henry to the bus, maybe occasionally grabbing more than a coffee at the diner before Emma walks with her to work.

As Emma inches closer and winds their arms together, Regina rests her head against a shoulder with a smile. She is more than content with this. The simplicity, the easy silence, the heat that radiates against her side and warms her from the inside out. She has imagined this kind of life, before Princesses who can’t keep their mouths shut, Evil Queens and curses. There is no stable boy, no small cottage on the outskirts of a village far from her mother, or the gaggle of children she’d wanted back then, but there is Emma. There is Henry and a town full of people who might not love her, but at least respect her and _try_ to appreciate everything she has done for them despite their pasts.

A year ago, it wouldn’t have been enough. A year ago, she’d been selfish and had wanted more than she deserved.

A year later, and though she still thinks it more than she deserves, it is all she could have dreamed of and more.

Reaching Town Hall far sooner than she’d like, she sighs and tugs Emma back before she can lead them inside. Emma dips her head to capture her gaze, and smiles softly in understanding. “I can stay,” she murmurs, kissing her forehead.

Regina shakes her head as she raises it from the shoulder, touched by the offer but knowing Emma far too well to think that a good idea. “You’ll be bored to tears, besides—”

“Looking at you all morning?” Emma interrupts, grinning as she adds teasingly, “Impossible.”

Her eyes roll, but she smiles warmly and can feel the redness in her cheeks. “Well,” she starts, but trails off, having no idea how to respond. Emma might not be the most eloquent woman in the world, but she’s certainly mastered the ability to throw her off and leave her speechless.

“Come on,” Emma says, pulling back just enough to grab her by the hand and drag her up the stairs. Regina follows helplessly, at a loss as to what else she can possibly do. She suspects Emma will be more of a hinderance than help when it comes to doing her job, but she certainly isn’t about to protest her continued presence while she works.

 

* * *

 

 

Emma lounges on the sofa in Regina’s office. She hadn’t been joking. She could spend days looking at her, taking in every minute change in her expression, cataloging what each change meant and appreciating all those little quirks borne of impatience, frustration and the far more rare but equally noticeable moments of relief that come from reading, signing and casting aside the mountain of forms she has to deal with each day.

Unfortunately, an hour into her staring, Regina had a meeting she needed to go to and as it would’ve been weird for Emma to attend now that she isn’t the Sheriff, she chose to stay behind, the boredom eminent. She tried to pass the time reading one of the magazines Regina keeps beneath the coffee table, but soon found they were all cooking magazines and quickly lost interest. It had nothing to do with her distaste for cooking though, and everything to do with the fact every single meal in there looked to be something someone vomited on to a plate and tried to pass off as real food someone might actually want to eat.

Having thrown that plan out, she spends at least fifteen minutes trying to find some flaw in Regina’s ceiling before she gives up. Like everything about Regina, except perhaps the oddly unkempt bedroom they now share, the ceiling is flawless. She stands and wanders around the office, under no illusion that Regina would consider her curiosity to be _snooping_ as she opens every drawer and cupboard she comes across.

There is a small collection of books she didn’t know about in one of the desk drawers, but beyond those, she finds little of interest and lets out a huff of breath. She doesn’t want to leave, but she also doesn’t want to risk her boredom getting the better of her and doing something she’ll most likely regret, as is usually the case.

Taking a book from the drawer, she closes it and moves back to the sofa. She flips the book over to the front cover as she falls to a cushion, and starts to snicker. _Why_ she hadn’t known about that drawer is suddenly clear; if anyone knew Regina read romantic novels, she’d probably fireball them to death.

Of course, with nothing better to do, Emma shrugs and decides to risk it. If anything, she’ll be able to laugh at the writing and, should Regina catch her, she might think twice about leaving her in her office alone again.

Three pages in, there is a knock at the door and she looks up as it opens, brow furrowing when David pops his head in. “Oh,” he says, seeing her and opening the door wider. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

His gaze falls to the book in her hand and she quickly closes it, shoving it behind her back. “Shouldn’t you be at the meeting?”

He nods, glancing down at his watch. “I thought it would be over by now,” he says with a frown. “I figured she might want to know why I wasn’t there and since I was passing by…”

Her eyes narrow. They might never have put much faith in her superpower, but it exists and is more reliable now than it ever was. “You’re lying,” she says, more curious than she is suspicious. David is no threat to them. “Why?”

“I…”

He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he enters the office and closes the door behind him. She quirks a brow, amused that he can’t seem to meet her gaze, eyes wandering the room and looking at anything and everything that isn’t her.

“I was hoping I might be able to… talk to her,” he admits. He swallows, the bob of his throat visible before he adds, “About you.”

She nods, unsurprised. Her so-called parents never were all that good about confronting her, even during those times she might have wanted them to. She still isn’t certain how she feels about it. On the one hand, she knows they think they’re protecting her in some strange fairy tale logic way that she doesn’t yet understand, but on the other, their behaviour seems to suggest they’re nothing more than cowards and— well, it coincides nicely with every other experience she’s had with the self proclaimed heroes in her life.

“Lucky for you, I am here then.” She smirks, enjoying the look of discomfort that crosses his face as she says, “So, what about me is it you wanted to talk about, _Dad_?”

“That,” he replies, a rare hint of anger tinting his voice. “For starters.”

Her smirk falls and she scoffs. She has always admired her father for one reason, and one reason alone; he understands what he deserves, and accepts it without question. “Would you rather I call you David?”

“Honestly? Yes.” Her eyes widen and he tilts his head, taking in her surprise. “I used to love hearing you call me Dad, but I also understood why it was always in moments of danger, or when you were overwhelmed— when you needed help, or were simply glad to be alive. You’d let me hold you, comfort you. They were small moments, never really lasted, but they were special and now…”

He shrugs and she glances down at the floor, the guilt hitting her harder than she would’ve thought possible. “I don’t know, Emma,” he continues, sounding tired all of a sudden. “Every time you say it in that tone, it feels cheap and it’s hurtful. I get it. We haven’t had much time to be a family and you’re not there yet, but I’m still _trying_. If calling me David helps you, then yes, I would prefer it.”

She laughs and there is little humour in the sound. “After all this time, you still think I need help. Has it ever occurred to you that the reason I don’t think of you as my father is because I don’t think of you as family at all?” If he’s tired, then she is _exhausted_ , especially when it comes to pretending she’s something she’s not. “If expecting too much and constantly throwing me away is what constitutes family, then you’ll need to get in line behind the five other men out there who claimed to be my father.”

Taking a breath, she raises her hand and rubs the bridge of her nose. A little more time, and she might have been able to put all this into words that would hurt him less, for as much as he and Snow might deserve it, she doesn’t _want_ to do it. “I used to call you Dad because you used to make me feel wanted,” she admits, pushing aside her thoughts as she meets his pained expression. “It didn’t last. It never does.”

“You _are_ wanted,” he protests, taking a step forward. She shakes her head again and he stills, sighing. “I let you down once, and that’s it? You’ve written me off for good?”

“Once,” she repeats with a look of disbelief. “No, David. Once I could forgive. Abandoning me, lying to me— how many times has Snow made a decision in _my_ best interest that you’ve gone along with, huh? I’m not Regina, your inactivity is just as bad as neglect, I don’t love you more for it.”

His mouth falls open and she averts her gaze for another reason entirely, she’s certain. She hadn’t meant to bring Regina’s relationship with her own father into it. Whatever issues she has with her parents, Regina has nothing to do with it. If Regina were present, she would have welcomed the slap she no doubt deserved for that comment.

But, she wonders silently, it is the same, isn’t it? Henry was scared of Cora. He’d stood by while she mentally, emotionally and physically abused their daughter. What was shoving her into a wardrobe as a baby, if not some form of abuse? He stands idle while Snow makes excuses for the decisions _they_ made, the decisions they try and continue to make. She’s thirty two goddamn years old and they’re still trying to turn her into someone she’s not because they can’t handle the fact she isn’t like them.

No, she decides. David isn’t like Henry after all. At least Henry encouraged Regina. He was a coward, but he had accepted Regina for who she wanted to be and when it came to the Evil Queen, he accepted her then too because he knew it was who Regina _needed_ to be.

Pressing her head back against the sofa, Emma sighs. “You need to leave Regina alone,” she says, staring up at the annoyingly flawless ceiling once again. “She doesn’t want anything to do with this shit between us, and I know she’s told you both that already.”

“With a little more finesse, might I add.” Neither of them having heard the door open, their attention snaps to it, eyes wide in surprise. Regina sniffs. “I refuse to eavesdrop outside my own office. If you’re not done as I thought, then you can both leave.”

Emma immediately glares at David. She has no intention of leaving and as far as she’s concerned, they were done the second he admitted why he was here. She clears her throat when he continues to stare at Regina and as his attention turns back to her, his entire body seems to deflate.

“Right,” he says, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. He walks to the door and hesitates a moment before he looks over his shoulder. “Could we maybe…”

Emma rolls her eyes. “I’ll let you know when I’m over this conversation, then we can try again with alcohol.”

He nods and flashes a small smile before he leaves the office, Regina closing the door behind him. “What, dare I ask, was all that about?”

“Oh you know.” Emma shrugs. “We love you, we were doing what we thought was best, why won’t you conform to our beliefs and love us back; the usual.”

Regina nods as she drops her purse on the desk before she walks over to her. She sits on the cushion beside her and lies down, placing her head directly in Emma’s lap as she throws her legs over the arm of the sofa. “Be a dear and do something about this god-awful headache, would you?”

Emma taps into her magic and runs a hand through her hair, not an ounce of hesitation in doing so. Regina appears to melt beneath her touch and closes her eyes, an appreciative hum vibrating from her throat as Emma smiles down at her.

“Shall I get ready to string someone up by their privates?”

Dark lips spread into a grin. “As much as I appreciate the sentiment,” Regina murmurs, “the only privates I want you near are mine, Miss Swan.”

Emma chuckles throatily. “Duly noted,” she says, running nails along her scalp.

Regina moans softly. “Speaking of…”

Easily catching her meaning, Emma stifles a laugh and questions coyly, “Madam Mayor, are you suggesting we have sex in your office?”

Lids fluttering, Regina meets her gaze, pupils already dilated. “I do have work to do,” she reminds her with a smirk. “However, were you to put that other hand of yours to use, then I might consider taking lunch a little earlier today.”

“Well,” Emma drawls, sliding said hand beneath the waistband of her trousers and into the heat awaiting her, “since you asked so nicely.”

* * *

 

 

Regina stares at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her makeup isn’t simply smudged, it’s gone completely, and her hair— calling it a rat’s nest would be a kindness at this point. She sighs. Despite what anyone might believe, she doesn’t use her magic to get ready in the mornings, though she is seriously contemplating it this time. The extra thirty minutes she took for lunch ended up being another hour thanks to Emma’s insatiable appetite, and once again, she is late.

Taking her makeup kit from beside the sink, she rolls her eyes and begins the tedious routine of returning her appearance to something resembling normal instead of the sex crazed, disheveled look she seems to have going on at the moment.

Halfway through reapplying her eyeliner, she hears her phone ring and pauses. Chances are it’s her secretary calling, wondering where she is and as she doesn’t answer to her secretary, or anyone else for that matter, she chooses to ignore it.

When it rings a second, and then a third time, she huffs, having just finished with her lipstick. She summons the phone to her hand but as it appears, so does Emma behind her, and she jumps, startled by the image of her in the mirror.

Emma raises an eyebrow, glancing down at her phone before meeting her wide-eyed reflection. “Worried I was calling to get you all hot and bothered again with phone sex?” Regina blinks at her in confusion and she smirks. “Just wondering why you didn’t answer.”

“You left no more than ten minutes ago,” Regina replies with an eye roll. “Excuse me for not assuming it was you so soon.”

“Ah. Well… Don’t blame me because I didn’t tell you sooner but we have a problem,” Emma says and before she can ask, they disappear and reappear beneath the mine.

Regina inhales sharply, immediately seeing the problem. Behind the bars of the cell where Blue should be, there is an open portal hovering in the air.

“Seems she had a similar idea to my original one,” Emma comments and Regina catches the irritation in her voice. She imagines the fairy’s escape has put a damper on Emma’s plans for her, and she finds herself feeling somewhat sympathetic to her lover’s plight.

“Any idea where it goes,” she questions, eying the portal with a healthy dose of suspicion and a vaguely troubling sense of curiosity.

Emma shakes her head. “It’s not fairy magic though, which means someone else helped her.”

“Unless you think it was Maleficent, we’re the only two in town who…” She falls silent as the puzzle pieces fall into place. If Emma thought it was her, all she had to do was find her magic signature to know it wasn’t. Emma cocks an eyebrow at her and she sighs. “You think it leads to another world. Someone not in town helped her escape, but who? Who even knew she was here, and who has that kind of power?”

“No idea,” Emma admits, smiling when Regina looks to her in disbelief. She shrugs. “It doesn’t even need to be someone with magic. Find the right scroll or spell book, and anyone can open a portal as long as they know what the hell they’re doing.”

“But between worlds? I thought it was almost impossible? Rumple—”

“Was an ass,” Emma interjects, nostrils flaring before Regina grabs her hand and she entwines their fingers. Her smile returns, her anger brushed aside as she offers, “If you ever decide you want me to kill him, just let me know.”

“I won’t deny the more I learn, the more appealing that idea is,” Regina murmurs, already imagining all the ways Emma might do it. If it’s true and Rumple hadn’t needed the curse to come to this world, then she might even do it herself. “I am starting to hate that conniving little imp.”

Emma snorts. “You’re entirely too forgiving for the person he’s screwed over the most.”

She inclines her head in concession but just as she had with her parents, she has never been able to muster the kind of anger for him that he deserves. “Rumplestiltskin aside.” She nods in the direction of the portal and says, “I assume you have a plan for this?”

“As far as I can see, we have two options. We can either close it, or we can…”

Her heart speeds up as Emma trails off with a pointed look, and she swallows thickly. “…go through it.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and a cliffhanger. Am I a terrible person yet?


	26. Chapter 26

“Close it,” David replies in answer to the question Regina asked no more than five minutes earlier as more bodies filled the cave.

“Go through it,” Rumple disagrees, the outrage at David’s suggestion written on his face.

Emma rolls her eyes. She should have known better than to give Regina the choice. Regina, who thought everyone and their grandmother— literally, she notes while eying the elder Lucas beside her— should be consulted on the matter of the mysterious portal sitting beneath the town. She’s starting to think listening to her inner imp and going through without telling anyone would’ve been a better idea.

“For all we know no one else _can_ go through it,” Snow unhelpfully points out.

Emma was surprised she’d shown up at all, for all of about three seconds before she remembered who exactly it was, then it wasn’t surprising in the slightest. No matter what else might be going on, if there’s a chance Snow White can stick her nose into someone else’s business, then there’s an even better chance she’ll be there in a heart beat with her two cents.

“For all we know, we might walk right through into the mouth of a dragon,” Emma retorts, the sarcasm practically dripping from her words. “None of you are bloody helping.” She turns to Regina and scowls. “This is why I brought you. _You_ , not them.”

Regina raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me for not wanting to make a decision that could mean the both of us dying, or being stranded in a world neither of us know anything about.”

“Excuse _me_ for thinking we’ve proven ourselves stronger together than all of these idiots combined,” Emma counters. “We could have figured it out. I’m the Dark One, or did everyone forget?”

In response, she notices a few of them stepping back from the corner of her eye as though they had in fact forgotten, and she throws up her hands. “Oh for the love of,” she growls, exasperated with the lot of them. “Get out, all of you.” A poorly suppressed snort catches her ear and her head whips back to Regina. “Oh, this amuses you, does it?”

“Clearly,” she drawls, the corner of her mouth twitching as Emma’s scowl deepens. “Surely you aren’t just now noticing how entertaining I find your petulance.”

“Maybe you two lovebirds could finish your quarrel after we figure out who’s going through the portal,” Red pipes up from somewhere behind them. Emma turns on her heel, eyes narrowed in an effort to find her. Red grins when she does and adds, “Just a thought.”

Emma scoffs, dismissing her as easily as she does everyone else. She turns back to the cell and stares at the still locked door as she asks, “Who has the key?”

In truth, she’d made up her mind long before she’d invited Regina and her opinion into the matter. She had hoped Regina would come to the same decision on her own, but since she’d decided to invite half the town into the equation instead, that hope is now dead and buried.

“I do,” Snow says as she reveals the chain around her neck. “You can have it on one condition.”

Emma grits her teeth. She could just take it; snatch it right from the chain, unlock the door and saunter through the portal. She could also grab it, wrap it around her hand and pull the chain tight around her mother’s neck—

She shakes her head and demands, “What?”

Snow smiles softly. “You take us with you.”

“Who,” she questions from between clenched teeth.

“Us,” Snow says, gesturing to everyone.

Emma laughs. “I’m not taking every damn person in town to wherever this leads. More than half of those in here are goddamn useless—”

“Hey,” protests one of the dwarves. Sneezy? Dopey? She doesn’t know which, or care. Calling attention to himself only proves her point for her.

“Can you fight,” she asks him. “Do you have magic? A weapon? Anything? If we get attacked, who are you hoping will save you? Snow White and her arrows? Charming and his sword? There could be an army on the other side of that portal, and the only two people who could face it would be too busy protecting you useless sacks of meat.”

“Emma.”

Hearing her name and how far away Regina’s voice is, Emma breathes in deeply and quickly takes a step back. Whoever he is, she knows by his expression that he won’t be insisting on joining them should he ever manage to peel his body from the cave wall. She retreats and returns to Regina’s side, the silence around them thick.

“I think it best if we stick with a small group,” Regina says after she clears her throat. “Two more besides us at most. Someone needs to stay behind with Neal and Henry.”

Granny snorts. “A job for one of his mothers, I’d think.”

“Indeed,” Regina agrees. “If I stay, however, so does Emma and after that display, is that something you all want?” The cave fills with murmurs of agreement and she smirks. “Precisely.”

“I’ll stay,” David says, gaining their attention. He smiles and ducks his head. “Granny is right. It should be family, at least. We’ll make it a guys night. It’ll be fun.”

“No way.”

“Emma,” Regina repeats, grabbing her elbow as she tries to step forward again. “David, I think perhaps given the strain on—”

“Neither of you are coming,” Emma interjects bluntly. They don’t have time for the delicate approach and she’s already tried to kill them both once. “I know what you’re doing, and you need to stop. It’s naive; forcing me to spend time with either of you isn’t going to bring us closer together.”

She doesn’t hate them, and she doesn’t want them dead but if there is danger, if it comes down to it and whatever is through the portal forces her to choose between three of the five people she cares most about, it won’t be a choice at all. She _will_ choose Regina, she will _always_ choose Regina.

“I need you both to stay here,” she continues, her voice softening. “Here, where I know it’s safe and where I know Henry and Neal will be looked after.”

They did wrong by her, but maybe given the chance, they can do right by her brother.

“Then it’s settled,” Rumple chimes in, grinning at her. “Red and I will go.”

Emma stares at him blankly. “You? I mean, Red I get— she’s a werewolf. But you?”

He smiles in that creepy way of his. She used to think it was the darkness, but he really does resemble the imp Regina likes to label him as. “You think a former Dark One can’t hold his own?”

She snorts.

“If memory serves, you stabbed yourself in the foot to get out of fighting in the Ogre Wars—” She pauses as a few too many gasps bounce off the walls, and glances around. She’d be surprised if she wasn’t already well acquainted with the level of ignorance these people seem to embrace. She returns her gaze to him.  “Oops?” He glares at her and she rolls her eyes. “My point remains. We all have our strengths and sadly, courage is not one of yours.”

“Wrong. I have had centuries to…” He grimaces and she wonders if he’s remembering the man he was before the power— before the Dark One and all it promised. She wonders if he misses it, and smirks at the thought that he had been too weak in the end to keep it. “…rectify that particular flaw.”

She remembers the hospital and how he reacted to seeing her the first time she brought him back. “So you cowering in your hospital bed when I pulled you out of Purgatory was, what?” She cocks a brow. “An ego boost?”

His responding grunt and the contortion of his face is answer enough, but— “If you really want to come, then so be it,” she says. “Maybe whatever realm we end up in will be in those memories of yours I haven’t unlocked yet.”

“How does that work,” Snow butts in, looking from one to the other. “The memories, I mean. I’ve always wondered.”

“Keep wondering,” Emma retorts, throwing her own look at Rumple. He nods, subtle but there before she turns to Red. “Wanna come?”

“I guess,” she replies with a shrug. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

“Don’t forget your cloak,” Granny says and Red groans.

“It’s on my back, woman.” She swats at the bright red material hanging around her shoulders to make her point.

“Don’t you woman me, Missy. You’re not too old to put over my…”

While they argue, Emma tunes them out and holds out her hand to Snow. She looks crestfallen but Emma can’t find it in herself to care as her fingers curl around the key. The thing is, now that she’s the Dark One, there is something she understands that used to confuse her— Regina, in the beginning, she realizes is a prime example— and that is; you don’t have to like someone to want to keep them safe, and if Snow wants to play victim rather than figure it out for herself, then that is her prerogative.

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh.” Stepping from the portal last, Regina lets out a breath. She wasn’t sure what to expect on the other side, but this is— 

“Creepy, right?”

She nods, sparing the werewolf an appreciative glance as their thoughts run along the same lines. “Indeed,” she agrees, leaning over the side of the narrow bridge they’re on and peering over into the abyss. “Where?”

“Underworld,” Emma and Rumple respond simultaneously before Emma wrinkles her nose at him and explains how they know. “Arthur came here once with Nimue to rescue Merlin.”

“Hmm.” Regina straightens, curious as to what possessed the fairy to choose _here_ of all realms and dimensions, apparently, in existence. She glances across the bridge to where the ground spans out and appears to stretch for endless miles in a single direction. She deadpans, “Which way?”

Emma grins. “Down?” She jerks to the side with the suggestion and Regina barely manages to stifle her gasp, eyes narrowing in anger as she notes the grin hasn’t faltered an inch.

“Emma Swan,” she snaps. Of all the idiotic stunts. “I swear to all things living and dead, if you don’t get yourself back over on this bridge this instant, I will pull you back and toss you over the side myself.”

She notes the shiver Emma gives and something inside of her wakens at the look she then gets. Her nostrils flare and she forces the unwanted feeling back down, in no mood for one of Emma’s games, not least of all because of their damned audience.

“Emma,” she repeats, her voice deeper in warning. She gets another shiver before Emma is hovering a mere inch in front of her. “Down.”

Emma’s boots hit the bridge with a solid thump. There is contrition in her expression but it’s overshadowed by something else— something familiar that they in no way have time for. “Behave,” she growls, praying that Emma’s fascination with the Evil Queen will be enough to curb any further idiocies.

The grin widens. “As you wish,” Emma purrs and spins on her heel.

Regina stares at her back, lips parting in disbelief as she watches her cross the bridge without so much as a glance to see if anyone is following her.

They’re not.

Seeing the way the other two are staring at her, she huffs. “Well go on then,” she demands, gesturing to the end of the bridge. If she catches Emma first, she’s liable to strangle her— or be thrown up against the nearest wall they come across because while Emma likes to pretend she has self-control, she really doesn’t, and hers doesn’t fair much better.

Red and Rumple share a smirk before they turn from her. She follows, glaring at their backs while wishing they were all still back in the cave where she’d been amused by Emma instead of annoyed and weirdly aroused by her.

Keeping her distance from her infuriating blonde, she studies their surroundings with a detached sense of curiosity, and perhaps a little more disappointment than she imagined. Though she’s never given much thought to the Underworld and what it might be like, she _has_ mused on it from time to time in rare moments of despair when she considers what is in store for her the day the reaper comes calling.

Beyond the bridge, there has been nothing but rock, rock and— surprise— more rock. In the distance there is a silhouette of some kind— a building, perhaps. A tower maybe, or a castle; she can’t quite see it clearly yet, but as it is the direction in which Emma leads them, she assumes she’ll find out eventually.

She is more interested in what it _lacks_.

While, as far as her lessons on the matter go, she is aware that Hell and the Underworld aren’t one in the same, there is a distinct lack of— well, anything even remotely hellish. There are no souls, tormented or otherwise, roaming about. No fires of eternal damnation. It is a place of nothingness, of barren waste.

Even in the company of three, it leaves her feeling wholly _alone_ , and she wonders if that is what death is, or is it simply what _her_ death is?

Is she so afraid of being alone, that it will become what she suffers most in the afterlife?

Her heart skips a beat and she doesn’t even think before she shouts, “Emma!”

Another beat and she’s blinking, vision filled with darkness before it is replaced by long, blonde hair and worried green eyes, searching her with a furrowed brow.

“What’s wrong?”

She laughs suddenly. What’s wrong is she would rather confusion and arousal to whatever it is this place is doing to her. “I… don’t like it here,” she admits, swallowing down any more of her laughter in case Emma think her hysterical. Bad enough that she _feels_ that way. “Just—”

“Do you want to go back?” She shakes her head and Emma’s frown deepens a split second before the crease of her forehead clears and she smiles. “Want a distraction?”

Regina nods, biting her lower lip as an arm finds its way around her waist and her head falls to a shoulder. “No doing anything I can’t immediately punish you for,” she murmurs, soaking in the husky chuckle it garners her as Emma guides her forward.

 

* * *

 

 

Emma doesn’t get it. Red keeps looking at them in an odd way— shifty, almost, like she’s on the verge of bolting. Rumple hasn’t spoken a word since they stepped off the bridge and Regina is being… Regina. Whatever it is they feel, she doesn’t. Regina seems to have recovered, which is nice but she can’t exactly whisper come ons in Rumple and Red’s ears to take their minds off of it.

Well…

She tilts her head. She _could_ , she supposes, but then that would mean potentially angering Regina, not to mention the hundreds upon thousands of dollars she’d end up paying Archie in therapy as just the _thought_ of flirting with Rumple is enough to scar her. Teasing Red might be worth the money, but she’s fairly certain Regina’s resulting anger will be more along the lines of eternal celibacy rather than their usual approach of screwing it out when their tempers are more likely to destroy the garden they often work on when in one of their rare moods.

With a grin, she dismisses her thoughts. They’re almost to the tower she’d recognized from one of her memories. Hopefully, once they have a roof over their heads and aren’t so exposed out in the open as they are, the feeling will pass and they can all get back to their versions of normal.

_Who knew_ , she muses with a soft snort, _the Dark One_ is _capable of positive thinking._ Snow White would be proud.

As they draw near the stairs, she brings their little group to a stand still. Something niggles in the back of her mind that tells her to go no further. She’s missing something, a memory of some sort to explain her hesitation. Under normal circumstances, she’d brush it off and forge on ahead, confident in her ability to counteract whatever might be lurking in wait, but in this instance it isn’t harm to herself that concerns her.

Peering up at the massive structure before them, she tries to pull the frustrating niggling to the surface only to be distracted by the continuous heat seeping into her side from where Regina remains pressed up against her. She unfolds her arm from around Regina’s waist and kisses her temple, murmuring an apology before she steps away.

This time when she focuses on the feeling, the memory crashes over her like a tidal wave. She smiles, relieved they won’t have to turn around and go back before they’ve found Blue and figured out what the hell— or rather, _who_ the hell helped her escape. She rounds the stairs and runs her hands along the rock face the tower resides on, searching for the smooth slab now etched in her head.

When she finds it, she pushes down and there’s a soft click before the grating sound of shifting rock fills the air. She turns back to Regina with a grin that falls the second she takes in the sight of her face. Regina is as white as a sheet and, panic stricken, Emma quickly poofs herself, not wasting the time it would take to walk back. She gathers Regina in her arms, tucking her head beneath her chin.

“What is it?”

Regina sucks in a breath and Emma squeezes her gently before her own breath is forced from her lungs. Regina clings to her tightly, hair tickling along Emma’s collarbone as she shakes her head. “I’m fine,” she whispers.

Emma gazes disbelievingly out into the darkness behind them. She is so not fine, that it isn’t even worth it to expend the effort it would take to call her a liar.

Instead, Emma huffs, releasing all she wants to say in a single sound of exasperation. Regina pulls back after a moment, her lower lip tucked between a perfect row of teeth. Emma stares at it or, more aptly, _glares_ at it. The lie would be more palatable if she actually understood what was going on. Regina _was_ fine and now— now she’s not.

“Emma,” she whispers again, her tone pleading this time. Emma’s eyes dart upwards to meet hers as a hand cups her cheek. “I am. Truly.”

Emma nibbles the inside of her cheek. She still doesn’t believe her, not at all, but it’s clear Regina wants her to and if ever there was a reason…

She sighs but nods, carefully extracting herself from their embrace. “Be careful when you go through the doors, there’s a giant hole in the floor,” she says, turning before Regina catches her hand.

“Don’t l…” She looks back over a shoulder, frowning, and Regina swallows. “I am fine,” she repeats, “as long as you’re with me.”

Again she nods. This time though, she returns to Regina’s side and slides an arm back around her waist, a small smile on her lips as she says, “Together, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The muse REALLY wanted to be depressing this chapter, but I tried to counter her as best I could.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, I finally updated something.

The tower is a giant structure of granite on the outside and marble on the inside, intimidating in a way that the sensation of loneliness and despair Regina felt earlier is lost to the urge to turn around and flee back out into it. She's no stranger to the unfamiliar and in general she'd much rather adapt than run but there is something about this world that makes her think the latter might be the smarter choice.

After stepping through the doors and navigating the pit in the floor Emma had mentioned, they walk for what seems like hours through a narrow corridor. When it eventually ends, they find themselves in a circular room with nowhere to go but up or back. There is a wall in the middle of the floor that reaches all the way to the ceiling— a ceiling none of them can see. It spans a good portion of the room with about a foot on either side so one might slip passed. She has a feeling that if she does, she'll find the same thing; plaques engraved with names in their center. Some appear new while others are faded and cracked.

Emma saunters up to the wall the moment they enter and stares upwards, head tilted back as far as she can without contorting her spine. Regina frowns as she watches her, wondering. She eyes a few of the plaques and even recognizes some of the names from afar, but remains confused by their meaning.

Whatever it is, she thinks it might be important given how enthralled Emma is. She turns to Rumple and raises a brow, curious if he knows, and disappointed when he slowly shakes his head.

Taking a few steps forward, she folds her arms across her chest and leans in. She squints as she tries to read a few of the older plaques, their names almost entirely scratched out with the exception of two; David and Snow.

"Most of them are blank."

Her back snaps taut and she quickly steps back. "What?"

Emma nods to the wall, staring at her now. "The names stop right there," she says, then gestures to the row above her head. "I thought there'd be more."

"More," Regina echoes. She counts at least thirty in a glimpse; six rows of five, but there are hundreds that might have names she _can't_ see. "You know what this is?"

Emma shrugs and turns back to the wall. She runs a finger in the empty space between two plaques, then glances down. Regina follows her gaze to the shattered pieces of yet another one. She bends to retrieve it but it vanishes in a plume of thick black smoke before she can touch it, and her head jerks up.

"You didn't want to read that."

"Why," she questions as she rises. "Emma, what is this?"

"I could be wrong," she says, eyes darting from name to name. Regina studies her expression, can see the guilt but also the satisfaction. Emma points to a plaque that reads Hamilton. "My high school science teacher; he liked to verbally abuse his students. He used to talk to me like I was slow because I found it easier learning how to do things by doing them, rather than listening to him try and explain everything."

Regina stares at her hard and Emma points to another; Carrie. "Foster mother. Treated me like a slave, liked to hit me when she had nothing better to do. I always thought she was the worst because she didn't even have being a drunk or a drug addict as an excuse for being a terrible person, she just… was."

It goes on like that for a good few minutes with Emma pointing out names and explaining their meaning to her. With every one, Regina sees more and more red. She wants to slap a hand over Emma's mouth and make her stop, but she pushes it down and forces herself to listen whenever the desire strikes, to connect the pieces on her own.

When Emma finishes her tale about the friend of a foster brother who tried to sexually assault her before being caught and beaten to a bloodied pulp— a faded plaque, she’s noted —she slowly raises her arm and points to another, familiar name; Cora.

"Physically, mentally and emotionally abused the woman I love." To the left of her mother's name is Rumplestiltskin, and to the right; Henry. Emma shifts to the former and says, "Took advantage," then the latter. "Did fuck all to stop either."

Regina shakes her head, dismissing the need to defend her parents as the realization that started to form as Emma went on rapidly fades. She'd started to think the wall was simply a list of all the people in Emma's life who had hurt her in some way or another, but if that was the case, then those three names and Emma's reason for their existence doesn't make sense.

Regardless, none of it tells her _why_ the wall exists to begin with or what connection Emma has to the Underworld. She assumes it has something to do with the Dark One, but beyond that what else is there?

Torn between wanting to figure it out herself and wanting to demand a more thorough explanation, she jumps when a hand settles in the small of her back. Emma offers her a smile that is both sheepish and amused, and says, "They're the names of those I want to suffer for what they've done to me and the people I care about."

"She shoots, she scores!" All four heads snap up at the strange voice to see a man dressed in a black and white, pinstripe suit, casually seated upon the banister above them. "Congratulations, Dark One, here's your prize."

A muffled curse brings their attention back down to where Blue glares up at them from the floor, bound and gagged. "Well that was easy," Emma drawls, then lets out a burst of laughter.

Confused, Regina wonders if she's the only one and glances to Rumple and Red. They both look as lost as she is and she snaps, "What the hell is going on?"

"Ooh." Emma's laughter ceases instantly and the man disappears from the banister before reappearing in front of them, his grin reaching from ear to ear. "The lovely missus, I've been _dying_ to meet you."

Emma snorts before a hand flies to her mouth and she gestures between them with the other with a mumbled, "Regina, Hades. Hades, Regina."

"I know who she is," Hades drones, rolling his eyes. "I've tried to kill her often enough to get your attention."

Emma jerks forward and Regina quickly grabs the back of her jacket, yanking her back. "Whoops," he adds. "Probably shouldn't have mentioned that."

"You think?" Regina deadpans, teeth clenched as she struggles to hold on to Emma. Hades eyes them both before he waves his hand and Emma stiffens. Regina growls, "What did you do?"

"Eased my nausea." He flashes her a smile and says, "You're both so protective of each other, it's rather endearing in a not-entirely-revolting way."

Regina scowls, doing what she does without a thought to her own well-being. "I'll show you protective," she threatens, summoning a fireball to hand.

"Oh no." He raises his hands in mock surrender, then quickly plucks the magic from her palm. Her lips part in surprise as he juggles her fire back and forth. He smirks and says, "Lord of the Underworld, lady. You don't scare me."

As her scowl deepens, he snuffs out the fireball and gestures to Emma again. Emma relaxes against her grip as her own scowl emerges and she glares at him.

His eyes roll for the second time. "Come come," he beckons, dismissing them both as he pivots and moves toward the stairs. "Let us retire to somewhere more comfortable."

"Uh."

He turns back, eyes narrowed at Red. She points to the fairy still bound and gagged. Regina almost laughs at the face he makes. "Eh. Leave her there to think about how terrible a person she is."

Regina chuckles as Red says, "Coming from the Lord of the Underworld, that's—"

"Offensive," he interrupts her, throwing a glare over his shoulder as he ascends the stairs. "She's evil. How dare you."

Red's face contorts. "But aren't you--"

"I'll have you know, I'm very much neutral…" He pauses with a sigh, but then shrugs as he continues up the stairs. "Chaotic neutral, maybe, but can you blame me? I spend my entire life surrounded by dead people, I need to entertain myself _somehow_."

"He has a point," Emma says.

"I don't think boredom is a reasonable excuse to torture helpless so—"

"Hey. Whoa there," Hades interjects once again as he spins to face them. "You've got me all wrong, wolf-girl. Ever heard the saying; judge, jury, executioner?" He points to himself. "I'm the Judge. No torment here, baby."

"Oh." Red frowns before she looks around at the varying expressions of amusement directed her way. "Well how was I supposed to know," she mutters, stomping passed them and up the staircase while mumbling something about Greek bullshit and cursed memories.

 

* * *

 

Emma wanders around the parlor Hades led them to. She hasn’t mentioned it but it reminds her of Regina's office back in Storybrooke with its black and white decor, and the warm fire currently crackling away in the hearth. She's been wracking her brain for the good part of the last ten minutes trying to find a memory that might clue her in about what's going on, but she's had no luck so far.

Despite her instinctive response to lash out as she had earlier in defense of Regina, she's a little unnerved by how calm she is considering their company.

He said she wouldn't find anything, and it's frustrating that he's so far proven right. She does an about face and levels him with a glare she knows would terrify anyone else, and has on multiple occasions. She wants answers and she wants them before his smug expression drives her to doing something stupid.

"You weren't helping her," she states and he inclines his head, confirming what little deductions she's made so far. "You lured me here." Again, his chin dips forward with his grin. "Why?"

"Employment opportunity."

Confusion replaces her frustration and she deflates. "What?"

He gestures to the chair beside Regina and her feet move of their own accord. She sits and welcomes the warmth of the hand that immediately wraps around her thigh, lacing the fingers with her own and giving them a gentle squeeze.

"I am immortal in the sense that I will live a very, very, _very_ _long_ time assuming no one wants to kill me." His grin widens and his expression turns to one of pride as he adds, " _A lot_ of people want to kill me. Fortunately for me, a majority of those people are horribly incompetent and or very much dead."

Emma huffs. She can understand the desire. "And that has what to do with me?"

"Maybe something," he replies, shrugging. "Maybe nothing. Either way, there are things you need to know and it's much easier to make you come to me than it is for me to leave this place." Seeing her impatient expression, he continues, "The power inside of you— the Dark One as you are all so fond of calling it, is mine."

Brow furrowing, she shakes her head and repeats, "What?"

"The Underworld needs someone to rule it," he explains. "Someone… impartial who is indifferent to the lure of power. As I told your friend, it is my job to decide the punishment one suffers when reaching the afterlife. Greed, selfishness, good and evil; they have no place here." He raises a finger when she opens her mouth and adds, "The darkness inside of you chose you for a reason, and your decision to accept it comes at a price."

"Are you saying the Dark One is the heir to your throne," Regina questions, her tone that of disbelief.

"I'm saying that Emma Swan is the heir to my throne, should the day come that I am no longer... capable," he corrects. "Neither dark nor light, she is a perfect balance, the perfect judge."

Emma laughs as she repeats, "Neither dark nor light? I've killed people—"

"None who weren’t deserving of death," he reminds her. "I have seen into your very soul, Emma Swan. You are neither or both, if you prefer. The darkness your parents stole from you as a babe left a void inside of you, a void my darkness has filled. You are in balance, were you not… well, you're not exactly as sane as you once were, are you, Rumplestiltskin?"

All gazes snap to the former imp but Emma saves him from having to respond. “I’ve had hallucinations, I hear voices. The only time I don’t—”

“Is when your better half draws near,” a feminine voice fills the room as Emma jerks to her feet. A woman appears before her in a plume of white smoke. “Relax, Emma Swan. I mean no harm. I am Persephone,” she says, glancing to the others. “A pleasure to meet you all.”

Falling back into her chair, Emma swallows, eyes flickering between the woman and Regina while the latter gapes. “You…” Regina sucks in a sharp breath, her gaze wide. “Why do you… you look like my mother.”

“Ah, yes.” Persephone looks down at herself, then back up at them with a faint, apologetic smile. “My great great great…” She tilts her head thoughtfully and Emma chuckles. Persephone winks at her. “ _Great_ granddaughter turned out to be a rather unfortunate disappointment. I assure you, we are alike in appearance and appearance alone.”

Regina regains her composure in the following silence, though she continues to stare, mouth slightly ajar. Emma finds the expression amusing and holds off on asking the question that bounces around in her head to savour it a little while longer before she reaches over and retakes Regina’s hand in her own.

“Hilarious as this is,” she drawls, ignoring the death grip Regina suddenly has her hand in. “What do you mean my _better_ half? And if I’m hallucinating and hearing voices, doesn’t that mean I’m not exactly… _sane_ anymore?”

Persephone looks to her in a way that is eerily reminiscent of the way Regina often does when she thinks she’s being an idiot, and Emma huffs.

“You had the thought yourself once,” Hades replies and Persephone steps back, turning to him. She brushes his cheek with the back of her hand before she takes a seat beside him. “Regina is your… what was it? Moment of calm within a raging storm? The downside to balance is that it must be maintained constantly— darkness always wants more than it has. The hallucinations were nothing more than a cry for help, one Regina has dealt with if I am not mistaken.”

Emma breathes a sigh in understanding and relief, allowing her thumb to stroke across knuckles as Regina loosens her grip. “Is that why I’m so protective of her too?”

“In part,” he admits, snapping his fingers. A glass of something amber appears in his hand. “My darkness has a certain obsessive quality to it, an… additional resource, if you will, to try and tempt you into taking a side. You saved Regina from it, theoretically speaking— risked your soul for her, and in doing so, she became your weakness as the darkness began to obsess over her.”

“No offense,” she says, not really sure if she means it or not. “But your darkness is a dick.”

He grins and inclines his head as the others chuckle.

“Why doesn’t Emma know all this already,” Red asks, flushing when all eyes fall on her. “Sorry, I just… she’s not the first Dark One? I mean, you explained Rumple and the whole balance thing, but does that mean it’s taken you this long to find an heir?”

“No dear wolf,” Persephone answers with a soft smile. “There have been others but the memories of the heir are always removed. My husband does so love these little chats of his.”

The smirk she flashes Hades when he laughs is both teasing and fond. “What can I say, sweetheart? I can only stand your refusals to entertain me for so many centuries.”

Emma rolls her eyes at the two of them and wonders if she’s this bad when it comes to Regina. Glancing to the woman herself, she sees the little smile Regina wears and concedes that she’d probably find herself sickening if the feeling in her chest is any indication.

Regardless, she lets them have their moment and considers everything she’s learned so far. It all makes sense to a certain degree. It makes sense that there is an actual purpose to the darkness most assumed and accepted simply existed without reason. It makes sense that with the darkness inside of her she now feels whole— complete. It was something she and Regina had already talked about, so it wasn’t really new information in so far as it were a confirmation they were right.

What she can’t wrap her head around and isn’t entirely certain makes sense is Regina’s role in her life. She knows what he said is true, Regina _does_ calm her but _why_ does she? If she does become Lord— Lady of the Underworld, does Regina become… whatever Persephone is? Will Regina be dragged once more to the Underworld with her should Hades perish? Does Regina being her _better half_ doom her to the same fate?

“Emma?” Breathing in deeply through her nose as she’s pulled from her thoughts by the voice, she turns her head, brow raised. Regina smiles. “Are you alright?”

Brow rising even higher, Emma snorts and counters, “Are _you_?”

“If I understand correctly about what all of this means, then yes.” Regina shrugs indifferently then asks, “Why, do you not want me to be?”

Emma stares at her with a bemused expression. “How?” Regina blinks, confusion crinkling her forehead before Emma clears her throat and elaborates, “You understand that we’re both going to have to literally sign our souls over to the d…” A cough brings a pause and she rolls her eyes, “to _Hades_ and you’re perfectly fine with that?”

“Yes,” Regina replies without hesitation and raises a brow of her own. “Unless you’d rather walk around the rest of your life feeling as though you’re only half a person, in which case by all means; decline his offer.”

Mouth open and closing a few times, Emma shakes her head as she looks to Hades and Persephone, jaw clicking shut. Both grin at her as though they find Regina’s nonchalance and her speechlessness amusing, and she kind of wants to slap them both.

Instead, she asks, “How is she my better half,” and receives a slap of her own, wincing. “I’m just saying,” she protests, returning Regina’s glare. “You’d sacrifice your _soul_ for me? What is wrong with you?”

Regina tries to keep a straight face, but a small chuckle slips free. “You mean like you sacrificed yours for me?”

“ _Theoretically_ ,” she counters, waving to Hades. “You heard him, the darkness actually wanted _me._ _”_

“It still would have taken her,” he interjects and Emma growls. “Of course, you’d have had to ki—”

“No one asked you,” she snaps before he mimes zipping his mouth shut. She sighs upon looking back to Regina and seeing her grin. “You’re insane.”

“I love you,” Regina corrects, gesturing dismissively when she tries to protest once again. “Besides, this is _all_ theoretical, dear. You might just as well die before he does. We’ll cross whatever bridges we come to _when_ we come to them.”

Recognizing the tone that brooks no argument, Emma slumps in her seat with a scowl directed to the two immortals sat across from her. Hades continues to grin, unperturbed while Persephone claps her hands together and gushes, “I just love young love. You’re much more sensible than that abominable mother of yours.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter involves a teeny tiny bit of violence that I feel horrible for letting my muse include, so no need to yell at me, okay? I'm an awful, awful person, I know.
> 
> Oh and a belated Happy New Year to all. Here's to hoping 2017 isn't as fucked as '16.

“Regina.”

“Persephone,” Regina murmurs as the goddess sidles up beside her.

While she watched Emma and Hades bicker across the room, she had wondered if the woman would approach her. Breaking her stare from where it was glued to the hand recently wrapped around Hades’ throat, she smiles. “Are you here to talk to me about my mother?”

“Well,” Persephone drawls, heaving a dramatic sigh. “We can I suppose, if you have nothing more worthwhile to discuss…”

Pleased, Regina lets out a delighted little chuckle. “If you have something more worthwhile in mind,” she replies, perfectly content to escape the topic of her mother for now. “I might be willing to indulge you.”

Persephone nods as if she’d expected nothing less and says, “Your Emma is a feisty one.”

“Indeed.” Regina grins, eyes going back to the woman in question. Emma’s own are rolling as she listens to something Hades says and Regina itches to move closer, to eavesdrop on their conversation and learn why exactly Emma has been bouncing back and forth between anger and exasperation for these last twenty minutes or so.

“She wants to know what happens if she survives you,” Persephone offers the answer as though she’d read her mind. Regina’s head whips around in surprise. “A question we can all relate to when it comes to those we love, no?”

Regina considers the words before giving a slow nod. Despite her musings in the past, she hadn’t really given the question much thought lately. Emma _is_ immortal as it turns out, in the same sense that Hades himself is. They can both be killed but only in the most dire circumstances, and only if the person trying is competent enough to pull it off.

If the voices Emma hears are silenced by her presence though, then what _will_ happen if she dies before her?

Will Emma lose her balance?

Will she turn dark and start killing all those who have wronged her or the ones she loves?

“Do you know,” she asks, now likely even more curious than Emma herself.

Persephone shrugs. Her expression screams as to how unimportant she finds the question and Regina barely resists the urge to slap her, but she knows; she knows that had she lived for centuries already, chances are the questions and lives of mortals _would_ seem insignificant in comparison.

“The likelihood of it occurring is so astronomically low, no one really knows,” is the answer she’s eventually provided and she stares at Persephone in disbelief, every offensive thought running through her mind most likely scrawled across her face while the woman continues to smile at her.

Tamping down on the thoughts, she takes a few short breaths with the vain hope it might expel the sudden anger as well. It doesn’t. “The likelihood is low,” she echoes, an edge in her tone. “Have you been removed from reality for so long that you’ve forgotten we mere mortals still _age_?”

Persephone tilts her head, mirth dancing in her eyes. “Mere mortals? You are a witch, dear, do you not know how to extend your own life? Shall I contact your mother and ask her to teach you?”

Regina takes a step back in surprise, feeling as though she herself had been slapped instead. Her voice shakes as she questions, “W-what?”

“If I recall correctly, you saw your mother three times after you banished her to Wonderland.” Persephone places a hand on her arm, the gesture one of comfort as she explains, “You were 17 then. You cast the curse when you were 35. Combine those years with the 28 of the curse and the year following then tell me; did your mother ever appear older to you?”

Regina remembers pushing her mother through the mirror, as well as the three instances mentioned. She remembers going to Wonderland to save her father when she was 23, and warning her mother against underestimating her again. She remembers 7 years later and almost falling for her mother’s tricks when Cora tried to use Robin Hood against her, and then— then she remembers Gold’s shop, staring down into her mother’s eyes as her cursed heart took her life.

The last has her inhaling sharply before she shoves the memory aside, no more believing her mother’s last words now than she had back then.

Each memory however reveals two things; 1) Not once did her mother look any different from how she remembered her as a girl and 2) not once did she ever think to question _why_.

Frowning, she shakes off the realization and the unwelcome feelings the memories have brought back to the surface as she looks up. “My mother was immortal?”

“Well… no.” Persephone smiles faintly and squeezes her arm before she takes back her hand. “Your mother was still mortal and could die as any other, she simply discovered how to lengthen her time as one. Comparing her to the Dark One would be somewhat akin to comparing a pebble to a mountain; they’re both certainly resilient, but the destruction of one is far easier than that of the other.”

So her mother wasn’t immortal, just… very old. It certainly explained the occasional lapse during her childhood when instead of finding her mother frightful, she’d simply thought her, as Emma would so eloquently put; extremely batty.

Feeling the bubble of laughter building in her chest, Regina bites the inside of her cheek to stifle it. It isn’t an entirely appropriate thought to ponder at the moment, but it is a humorous one and given their current situation, she could certainly use a good laugh.

Allowing the amusement to dissipate with a quiet sigh, she starts to consider the more serious thought of extending her life. She has heard stories about the possibilities, though before learning about her mother she didn’t know of anyone who had attempted it, or rather; anyone who _succeeded_ upon the attempt.

The unfortunate truth about magic users is that they’re always searching for a way to become stronger. Whether that means gathering more power or improving what power they already have is entirely up to the individual user but in the case of the former, it sometimes means coming across new spells and simply using them to try and understand exactly what it is they do.

What this also means is that a lot of magic users died due to their lack of understanding and while her mother certainly fit the category of those who liked to gather magicks of the rare and forbidden variety, she does not. As long as she was able to fight back, protect those she loved and could travel great distances with little to no effort, then she’d been content with the training she underwent as Rumplestiltskin’s apprentice.

There are few things in any world worth dying for, and more magic was never one of them. Emma, on the other hand…

The decision is rather quite simple. “I assume the spell is among the things my mother left behind,” she says, gaze shifting to Persephone. The woman inclines her head and Regina nods once more. “Then I will search for it upon our return.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You know, becoming a demigod seems like something you should be excited about.” Forced from her thoughts by Red’s voice, Emma turns slowly to glare at her friend, her conflicting emotions more to blame than the comment itself. Red holds up her hands with a tentative smile and says, “Just an observation from one superhuman to another.”

Emma snorts. “If I recall correctly, you weren’t too excited about being a werewolf,” she intones blankly. “But then, I suppose I don’t need to worry about being chased by an angry mob… or eating my own boyfriend.”

Seeing the flash of hurt in her friend’s eyes, she returns her gaze to outside the tower and says nothing more. She doesn’t want to hurt Red, but she’d left them all to their own devices for a reason and it wasn’t because she wanted anyone to follow her.

“Regina said this was probably a bad idea.”

“You should have listened,” she murmurs, her tone neither kind nor cruel. If anyone knows her well enough to offer advice about her, then it’s Regina. Why some people still don’t understand that is beyond her. She sighs, feeling the woman’s presence still lingering. “What do you want, Red?”

“To help,” is the response, said quietly and without hesitation. “If I can.”

Huffing humourlessly, Emma replies, “You can’t.” She has a decision to make. _She_ does. No one else; Regina made that perfectly clear with her blase goddamn attitude. She gestures to the room in which the others remain and says, “They want me to choose between temporary misery followed by nothing, and near eternal life with the woman I love, how exactly do you think you can help me?

“Oh.”

“Oh,” she repeats, anger and disbelief fighting against each other. She spins on her heel with a growl. “That’s it, oh? Real helpful, Red.”

The brunette winces, taking a step back. “I just…”

Emma snaps. “What?”

Sucking in a breath, Red releases it slowly. She shakes her head and explains, “I thought maybe you were worried about becoming someone else— about people you used to trust judging you for something that isn’t really your choice and that’s something I can understand. I just… I thought I could help.”

Staring at her blankly, Emma suddenly throws back her head and laughs. Had she not already done that? Did she not already lose her parents because of that very fact? Had her so-called friends not already judged her and moved on to pretend Emma Swan no longer exists? Outside of Regina and Henry, who exactly is there left to judge her that hasn’t already?

The laughter stops abruptly. “Fuck them,” she hisses, the anger winning out. “The only person I give a shit about anymore is in there…” Her arm jerks from her side as she points to the room with the others. “— and the son we share. The rest can all fucking _die_ as far as I’m concerned.”

“Emma.”

Both look to the voice and the woman it belongs to. At first, she thought it was Regina but upon seeing Persephone, Emma seethes. “I’ve had enough of you fucking gods and your meddling.”

“You fail to see the bigger picture.”

An inhuman sound verging on a scream escapes her throat. “If I don’t agree to the terms, then I lose this darkness, which I wouldn’t need in the first place if your husband wasn’t a boorish imbecile; there _is_ no bigger picture than _that_.”

Confusion flickers across the goddess’ face and Emma sneers. “The Dark One wouldn’t exist without Hades, the Evil Queen wouldn’t exist without the Dark One, and my parents wouldn’t have been so afraid of their only child becoming like her that they _tore me apart_.”

Chest heaving, she grinds her teeth together and flicks her wrist, vanishing from the tower to reappear on the bridge a few feet from the portal they’d come through. She stares into it and forces herself to take deep breathes as she listens to the voices call to her, their words growing louder by the second.

They want her to kill them all.

_Seek justice._

_Break their necks._

_Rip out their spines._

**_Tear them apart._ **

**_Bathe in their blood._ **

**_Judge them._ **

Sensing the intruder a split-second before they appear behind her, she jerks around and grabs them by the throat. The strangled, “Em,” is all she hears before she squeezes, teeth bared in a snarl.

_“Leave. Me. Alone!”_

Something slams into her stomach, hard, and the intruder is ripped from her grasp. She screams in rage as she goes flying but the sound is cut short, her back colliding with something solid that wrenches the air from her lungs, body wracked with unimaginable pain.

The voices fade and a whine claws its way up from her throat. She tries to breath as the darkness begins to seep into the edges of her vision, and every inhale feels like a knife between the ribs.

“Emma.”

Blinking back tears, she lifts her head. All she can see is shapes, one larger than the rest as it inches closer. “R- Regina?”

The shape shrinks and she thinks it must be kneeling before a hand grabs her chin. “I am going to heal you in a moment but first…” She whimpers as more pain radiates along her jaw, the bite of nails sinking into her flesh. “—if you _ever_ lay your hands on me in such a manner again, I will personally see to it that every last finger is broken before they are cleanly ripped off and all you are left with are two bleeding stumps.”

A shiver wracks her frame, and then she screams.

 

* * *

 

 

When she comes to, her sight is no longer impaired and the first thing she sees is Regina looking down on her. The first thing she feels is the warmth of the hand against her cheek and her lids flutter. She nuzzles into the palm, the memories slowly trickling back into her head.

Her eyes fly open with a gasp and she tries to sit up but Regina holds her down. “If you believe you have not adequately suffered for your behaviour, then you may apologize from down there,” she says in a tone Emma knows means that any protest she might offer will be dismissed.

Feeling the dryness in her throat, she swallows a few times before she croaks, “I attacked you.”

“You did,” Regina replies simply.

Emma frowns, head aching as she tries to sort through the events and rearrange them in the order they occurred. When she remembers the pain she’d been in, she registers the ache in her sides and breathes in deeply, relieved that it is only a mild discomfort and not the agony she’d felt before. She sighs. “You broke my ribs.”

Voice soft, Regina strokes her cheek and murmurs a, “Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma whispers, the guilt weighing heavily on her chest. She swore she would never do it, so certain of what little control she had over the darkness. She didn’t know— didn’t think— couldn’t _see_ and yet there is no excuse, none that she would forgive herself for let alone expect anyone else to. “So fucking sorry.”

“I know.” Her lips part to apologize again but Regina is leaning down before she can, kissing her. She feels the love, the forgiveness in the way that Regina moves her lips. It’s tender and careful; so very very slow, and it’s over in seconds even though their mouths still brush. “You need to accept, my love.”

Emma releases a shaky breath and says, “I can’t condemn you.”

“To condemn me would imply force,” Regina counters. “You are not forcing me,” she adds, kissing her twice more. “Right now, in this moment, you are giving me a choice and I choose you, Emma Swan. I will always choose you.”

Tears prick at the corners of her eyes and her throat closes up. “You could die— years, decades from now, you could die and I’ll live for centuries more,” Emma rasps, chest clenching at the thought. “I can’t lose you. I don’t want to be alone again.”

“Oh my love.” They’re both crying now. Regina cups her face with both hands and kisses her through the sobs, again and again, and again, each kiss becoming saltier than the last. “You will never… _ever_ _…_ be alone again,” she whispers the promise between kisses. “We will live together for as long as we must— forever, if need be. I won’t ever leave you.”

Emma shakes her head before freeing it from Regina’s hold and curling up on her side. She buries her face in Regina’s stomach as the tears continue to fall and Regina caresses her face, her neck. She runs fingers through her hair, murmuring words of comfort that lessens the pain in Emma’s chest and slowly turns the sharp stabbing of every beat of her heart into a dull, barely tolerable ache.

“I’m here, Emma. Forever and always.”

Sniffing as Regina wipes at a wet cheek, Emma mumbles into her shirt, “You can’t promise that,”

“I can.”

She sighs, turning her head to stare up into warm, chestnut eyes. “Regina…”

“Persephone—” At her lowly growl, Regina pauses, chuckling softly before she taps her cheek in reprimand. “Stop that,” she chides, smiling when Emma pouts. “She told me about a spell my mother possessed that will allow me to live for as long as I need to.”

Capturing the hand on her cheek and entwining their fingers, Emma slowly sits up with a frown. “What spell?”

Regina mirrors the frown with one of her own as she questions, “Does it matter?”

Not to me, Emma thinks. If it’s the same one she remembers Rumple casting every few decades, then the price isn’t anything she isn’t willing to pay but—“If it’s the spell Rumple used, then I think it will matter to you.” When the frown deepens, Emma sighs again and quietly says, “The added life has to come from somewhere, Regina.”

Regina sucks in a breath as her eyes widen in understanding. Emma smiles at her sadly before she bows her head, hoping to hide her disappointment. She knew the moment she said anything, it would no longer be a viable option but it didn’t stop her from hoping. Even knowing that it would render what they want to accomplish moot, she would give up her own life if that was what it would take to keep Regina around forever.

A finger presses beneath her chin and she lifts her head in time for Regina to seize her mouth. She melts into the kiss, whimpering her approval before Regina’s hand slides away from her chin and around to the back of her neck. Regina tugs and Emma takes the hint, climbing into her lap, both moaning in tandem as the kiss deepens.

Seconds and minutes pass in a haze of passion, words of hope and apology, of love and lust spoken between them without sound before Regina breaks the kiss with a gasp.

The same promise of before dances in her eyes and Emma holds her breath, transfixed as she watches it transform. The expression Regina wears is nothing less than determined when she growls, “We will figure this out.”

Emma squeezes her eyes shut, unable to keep the doubt she feels from them. “Regina…”

“No,” Regina snaps, grabbing her by the chin once more, putting pressure on her nails until Emma can no longer resist the silent demand and opens her eyes again. “You listen to me, Emma Swan, and you listen to me well. If I promise you something, then I intend to keep that promise and _nothing_ , not even my own conscience will stop me, do you hear me?”

Feeling the shudder race down her spine at the tone, Emma concedes with a nod and Regina grins. “Good. Now,” she adds, fingers brushing against her cheek. “You will get up and march yourself back through that portal. You will accept the deal with Hades, and then we will return here to our home and to our son where I promise you; we will live very happily together, and for a very long time.”

Searching her gaze for even the slightest hint of doubt, Emma finds none and almost tears up a second time. She swallows thickly and nods again. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Regina repeats before her magic engulfs them. When it clears, they’re standing wrapped in one another’s arms. Regina pecks her on the mouth, then extracts herself from the embrace and gestures to the portal. “Off you go.”


	29. Chapter 29

“A handshake,” Emma deadpans, staring down at the hand Hades has extended. She’d waltzed into the room, declared her acceptance of becoming his heir, and he offered her a handshake to seal the deal.

“Were you expecting a contract,” he drawls the question, voice laced with amusement. “Hoping to sign on the dotted line in your own blood? Maybe you wanted to read the fine print?” When she levels him with a glare because _yes_ to all of that, he sighs and flips his hand over, revealing the glowing brand on the inside of his palm. “Will knowing it hurts make you feel better, Princess?”

She scowls at the nickname and slaps her hand down on his and— yes, yes it really does hurt. She hisses and tries to jerk her hand back but he grips it firmly, lashes fluttering in feigned innocence when she snarls at him for it.

“You’re an asshole.” He chuckles and it incenses her, the way nothing she says or does seems to affect him in any way. She almost pouts but adds instead, “A giant, shit-ringed corpses’ asshole.”

Multiple laughs greet her words while Hades merely flashes her a grin and replies, “I like you, Emma Swan.”

With a grimace, she rolls her eyes and clenches her jaw. Given what Regina did to her earlier, the pain is a cake walk in comparison but it burns and it feels like her whole arm is on fire. To drown it out now that she isn’t sniping at Hades, she tries to concentrate on her breathing, in and out, slow and deep as the pain begins to spread all throughout her body.

“Regina,” Hades murmurs in warning before Emma registers the presence behind her. “You may support her, but do _not_ break the hold.” She stiffens beneath the hand that is placed against her back, then relaxes as Hades begins to explain. “We are creating a bond. For Emma to become my heir, my darkness needs to be connected to her soul so that if I die, she will be called here to replace me. I cannot risk that she might decide agreeing was a mistake, the souls of the dead _need_ their judgment before they can pass on.”

The bigger picture, Emma thinks as her eyes find the goddess. Persephone tilts her head, confirming the thought and offering a sympathetic smile. Emma exhales and with a brief nod in understanding, she closes her eyes.

It can’t be more than a minute later when the sensation changes and she sways back, enjoying the warmth that envelops her. Hands curl around her hips and a warmth of a different kind ghosts across her ear as Regina speaks. “Emma?”

She smiles. “Hmm?

“Are you alright?”

“Uh huh,” she breathes. It’s still not altogether pleasant, but in combination with the heat, she feels weightless and a sense of euphoria clouds her mind. She loathes the feeling of being out of control, reminded too much of what it’s like to let the darkness take the reigns every once in awhile, but it’s also familiar in a way that puts her somewhat at ease, eager to get it over with and content to allow whatever has to happen, happen.

“We’re almost done,” Hades offers. She doesn’t need to open her eyes to know Regina is glaring at him when he says, sounding slightly offended, “I simply assumed you’d appreciate an update. I’m actually quite impressed it isn’t taking longer. I certainly took my time when it happened.”

“Should I pretend to be surprised,” Regina drawls sarcastically. “You’ve made it quite clear you can be rather difficult when you put your mind to it.”

He snorts. “Oh sure, let’s pretend Emma Swan is the perfectly sensible, stable one.”

“She’s rarely an idiot when it counts,” Regina dismisses the comment casually.

Emma sighs, knowing any kind of outraged expression she attempts to muster will appear halfhearted when she’s trying, and failing, not to be amused. “You both know I’m still here, right?”

“Yes dear,” comes in the same breath as, “How could we ever forget?”

She scoffs, deciding she will simply ignore them for the time being.

When Hades releases her hand and everything starts to feel solid once again, her eyes snap open. The unexpected loss of so many sensations at once is weirdly on par with how she imagines the world’s most disappointing orgasm feels and she says, “Well that was anti-climatic.”

Grinning, Hades shrugs. “I could break the bond and we could try again naked if you like?”

Feeling Regina tense in preparation for a no doubt scathing retort, Emma smirks and beats her to it. “And how exactly would that be more climatic for me?”

His mouth gapes, feigning offense with a hand against his chest. “Madam, you wound me.” She can’t help but laugh when he then whirls around and walks over to his wife, falling dramatically into the seat beside her with a pout.

Persephone pats his knee in pretend sympathy to a mutter of, “Women.”

 

* * *

 

 

With the deal accepted and the bond to seal it in place, it was time to depart the Underworld but not before they’d decided what to do about the blue fairy. On the one hand, the woman was a nuisance and would most probably try to find a way to make them all suffer for the humiliation Hades put her through. On the other hand, Emma was immortal and short of killing everyone who would protect her and _then_ figuring out a way to kill her, Blue didn’t have a hope.

There was always the option of somehow getting to Emma through herself or their son, but while Regina didn’t want to give the fairy _too_ much credit, she assumed the woman had _some_ sense regardless of how small her brain seemed at times.

Considering the scowl she wears after Hades unbinds her, Regina thinks she might just be giving her too much credit after all.

“Think about where you are,” she says, ignoring the look the fairy sends her way. It matters little to her whether Blue returns with them but everyone should at least have _a_ chance to prove themselves more intelligent than they appear. “We’re in the Underworld, dear. You may not like it, but I can read the thoughts on your face as clearly as if you’d already said them aloud and I guarantee; if you _do_ say them, death will be the only mercy you can hope for.”

“You are all abominations,” Blue spits in disgust, seething. “Each and every one of you.”

Regina scoffs and flicks her wrist, stealing the fairy’s voice. From a glittery little gnat who pretends at being human, she’s hardly offended but she’d rather not listen to any more of the drivel that comes out of the woman’s arrogant mouth.

Facing away from her, she looks to Emma. “Come my love, let us return to our son.”

Emma holds up her hand. She hasn’t spared any of them a glance since they came downstairs. Reminded of the wall, she’s been staring up at it with a thoughtful, and vaguely worrying expression. Regina had dismissed it at first but now that she isn’t distracted, she’s concerned with just how fixated Emma is on it.

“What are you doing,” she questions, moving away from the others as she crosses to the blonde. Emma tilts her head and without answer, gestures to the wall with a sweep of her hand, sending all the plaques crashing to the floor. “Emma!”

Eyes wide, she quickly takes a step back lest she be crushed by the sheer number of them. “Well that was unnecessary,” Hades says, rounding the wall he’d been leaning on the other side of. “You could have _erased_ the names, you know.”

“I know.” Emma smirks before twisting her mouth into something resembling an apologetic half-smile and finally turning her gaze to Regina. “Sorry.”

Exasperated, she shakes her head and demands, “Was there at least a _point_ to it?”

“Clean slate,” Emma replies simply, shrugging. “If I’m going to live for thousands of years, I should probably learn to let go of past grudges.”

“You _know_ that isn’t how the wall works,” Hades interjects. “You can’t just—”

“I _know_ ,” Emma reiterates, interrupting him. She wasn’t the first to take down the wall, she doubts she’ll be the last, and she has all three of the explanations he’d given the previous heirs embedded in her brain. “You bound me. You know I have their memories now. Your speech is as unnecessary as…” She waves to the rubble of shards piled on the floor. “—that was.”

He juts out his lower lip in a mock pout. “Maybe I _like_ giving the speech.”

“Husband, leave the poor girl alone.” Persephone appears suddenly beside him and a grin pulls at his mouth. She backhands his shoulder and adds, “Honestly, you’re lucky _I_ put up with you as much as I do.”

“She reminds me of you.”

Regina starts at the murmur in her ear, then blinks as the words register. She raises a brow and drawls sarcastically, “It couldn’t possibly be due to the fact we’re related.”

Biting her lower lip, the grin Emma tries to prevent that mirrors the one Hades still wears emerges despite her efforts. Regina rolls her eyes at the resemblance and, taking her queues from Persephone, backhands Emma’s shoulder. “You’re an insufferable nuisance.”

“You’re the love of my life,” Emma counters, grin now as wide as can be. She leans in to whisper, “And my Queen.”

Regina shivers before raising a hand and covering her face, pushing her away. “We should get going before your parents assume something has gone horribly wrong and launch a rescue mission.”

Emma grimaces at the thought, though she knows Regina is right. They have maybe an hour more before they need to worry but the sooner they return home, she supposes the better. “Fine,” she says with a pout, ignoring Regina’s eye roll as she turns her attention to the fairy. “Blue, I’ve decided not to kill you, despite how much I _really_ want to.”

“Wait, what?” Regina glares at the back of her head in confusion as Emma moves toward the fairy. “Emma, what are you doing?”

“You’ll see,” she singsongs, smiling sweetly down at the miserable looking gnat. “I won’t kill you, but I can’t risk you thinking you deserve vengeance on me, or my family, so—”

Emma waves her hand over Blue’s head and the fairy falls unconscious. Regina watches the scene unfold, lips parting in wonder when Emma then bends and lifts the woman into her arms, a small shudder wracking her frame.

“I am so confused right now.” Regina forces her gaze from the sight and fixes Red with her stare. The wolf senses it after a moment. “What? Like you understand what she did any better than I do?”

Regina smirks. She can’t be certain unless Blue wakes up, but the spell Emma used felt similar to the one she herself has cast a time or two. What confuses her is why Emma didn’t wait until they were back in Storybrooke to cast it. “She cursed her, Miss Lucas. If I had to guess, she wiped her memories and provided new ones.”

Looking to Emma, she receives a smile and a nod, and she folds her arms, her expression smug. Emma chuckles. “Careful, Queenie. Red likes you, remember?”

She deflates almost instantly but Red only grins at her. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty, I still like you just fine.”

Relief, though she won’t admit it, relaxes her. She opts for ignoring both women instead, and turns her attention to Rumple. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the whole trip and while it’s doesn’t necessarily unnerve her as much as she thinks it probably should, she _is_ curious.

“What are you thinking, imp?”

He raises his head, eyes lifting from the floor as he meets her stare, and he smiles faintly. “Little of consequence, dearie.” She huffs and his smile widens before falling entirely. “I only wonder how much longer life intends for you to suffer.”

“Join the club,” Emma mutters from beside her, the fairy limp in her arms. She shifts uncomfortably at Regina’s glare, but dismisses it all the same. “Can we go now? She’s not exactly heavy, but I _am_ curious about how deep that chasm beneath the bridge is.”

The number of deadpan glances thrown her way has her rolling her eyes, their thoughts predictable. “I _did_ promise not to kill her.”

“True,” Regina muses aloud, then fixes Rumple with a pointed look. “You and I will be discussing that comment later.”

He inclines his head and pushes passed them, sidling up beside Red who feigns interest in her nails. Emma and Regina share a look, but neither says anything. Whatever is going on between the two isn’t any of their business.

“I guess it’s time for us to leave,” Regina says, feeling a sorrow she understands far better than she’d like, another relative she might know lost to choices beyond their control. “It was… surprisingly a pleasure, Persephone. Hades.”

“Chin up, dear.” Persephone winks. “This will not be the last you two see of us.”

“Oh joy,” Emma drawls sarcastically. Regina smacks her. “Ow.”

“Then I look forward to our next meeting,” she replies honestly. “Until then…”

Persephone bows her head with a small smile. “Until then,” she echoes. “Husband—”

“Yes yes.” Hades steps forward as he reaches into his pocket. “A parting gift,” he says, holding up what appears to be a necklace before he extends it toward Rumple. “It will temper what darkness remains within you and, in time, restore you to sanity.”

Rumple barely touches it before he shakes his head. With a gesture to Red, he says, “Give it to her.” Hades slowly blinks, only to shrug and offer the necklace to Red. “In your case, it will allow you to transform at will.”

Red’s mouth falls open. “But…” She looks to Rumple and frowns. “Why?”

He sighs. “Come with me when we return, and I will tell you.”

Regina eyes her old teacher. “If you intend to harm her—”

“I intend nothing of the sort,” he interrupts, sparing her a glance. “It is simply a tale that requires the presence of my wife, nothing more.”

“And these are the days of our lives,” Emma drawls, then heaves an exaggerated groan and whines, “Can we leave _now_?”

Persephone and Hades both chuckle before he swipes a hand through the air and a portal appears in front of her. Emma narrows her gaze at it. “Same place?” He nods. “Awesome,” she says and without another word, she steps through.

 

* * *

 

Appearing in the middle of town, Emma whips around to the portal with a scowl. She asked if it was the same one because she didn’t want anyone to see her with Blue. She’s going to strangle Hades next time he shows his stupid face.

Before anyone can notice her, she transports the two of them to the town line and gently lowers the fairy to the ground. Blue’s eyes flutter open just as Emma summons the magic dampening cuff from Regina’s vault and places it on her wrist. “So this is your plan, Savior? Erase my memories and hope I don’t figure it out?”

Emma shakes her head and stands. “No,” she says. She didn’t lie. She’s done lying, to Regina or anyone else. “You’ll have memories. You’ll know who you are, what to do, where to go. You won’t remember this… this town, or the people in it, but you’ll have a life not fueled by a want for more power than you deserve.”

Blue scoffs as she sits up. “And you think you deserve the power you have?”

Emma looks down on her with a smile. “No,” she admits. “But that’s the difference between you and I; I didn’t take it. I did what I was born to do, and I was cursed for it. No one deserves this much power, no one deserves to live forever. You come closer than most. You’re a fairy, you grant wishes to children, you were supposed to be _good_. Power corrupts. I don’t want it, but I have it and I intend to protect it, from you and anyone else stupid enough to believe themselves deserving of it.”

Taking a breath, she releases it on a sigh. “Don’t fight me on this,” she warns. “We both know you’ll lose. Go over the line and forget about us. You’ve wasted enough of your life.”

Blue rises from the ground and faces her. “They won’t accept you.”

Emma meets her gaze, expression blank. “They never have,” she replies. “Now go.”

Jaw clenched, Blue dips her head. “Have it your way, Dark One.” She takes a step back, then another. “Enjoy what little time you have left.”

As the border around the town shimmers, Emma cocks her head and waits. Regina walks up beside her, winding an arm around her waist as she leans into her and whispers, “I accept you.”

Emma smiles and turns, embracing her. “I know,” she murmurs before kissing her softly. “Wanna come with me to tell my parents they gave birth to the next ruler of the Underworld?”

Regina grins. “Absolutely.”

 

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's an epilogue.


	30. Epilogue

As Blue predicted, Emma was not accepted by her parents. They tried but in the end when she refused to even consider finding a way out of her agreement with Hades, the gulf between the three of them grew with each passing day.

David appeared at the mansion from time to time, though it was mostly for Henry’s sake, and he never stayed more than a few minutes. Unlike Snow, he didn’t hold Emma’s choice against her but not once had he the courage to tell her. Just like Henry Senior, the man was a coward when faced with the wrath of his wife.

They never did end up having that talk over beers.

Snow continued on with her life as a school teacher. She pretended when the need called for it but otherwise avoided the Swan-Mills family as best she could. One too many threats against her life from her former step-mother when she upset her daughter made the estrangement more bearable.

After a year, the two moved from their apartment. Snow became pregnant a month later. Emma was glad for them, but even the birth of her brother couldn’t undo the damage to their relationship.

Regina ached for her lover. Knowing Emma had spent her whole life searching for a family, only to be shunned by them meant the anger and hurt she felt on Emma’s behalf rarely abated. On the worst of days, when she wanted the two monarchs to suffer for the things they’d said and done, Emma would hold her until she calmed and remind her she had all the family she needed, right there under the roof of 108.

Henry, surprising neither of his mothers, accepted Emma without question. He tolerated her tempers better than anyone expected a teenage boy would, and comforted her when she allowed it. Regina fell more in love with them every time she caught the two of them huddled together, whispering back and forth, their understanding and love of one another shining in the depths of eyes that were sometimes hard, and sometimes misty.

Time passed and their lives went on. The town of Storybrooke took comfort in the fact not everyone suffered the same hardships the royal family did, though some fortunes baffled them more than others.

Belle gave birth to a son named Gideon. He was a little over three months old when Red moved in. No one knew why but that didn’t stop the gossip from spreading. Some said she and Belle (rarely Rumple) were having an affair while others assumed a polygamous lifestyle. Whatever the case, Belle, Rumple and Red seemed happy and Granny hadn’t shot anyone full of arrows, so the rumours eventually died down and seeing the three of them together with Gideon became the norm.

With the Mayor’s announcement of the blue fairy’s decision to leave Storybrooke in search of a more rewarding life, the fairies shed their cursed persona's and returned to their callings fulfilling the wishes of children. Although it resulted in mayhem for the town every once in a while, no one complained as the Dark One and the former Evil Queen often joined forces to control the damage wrought by an overeager fairy and her whimsical charge.

It was during one such time Regina discovered there was more to her connection with Emma than either of them knew. After being gored by a monster from an overactive child’s imagination and feeling the life slowly slipping from her, her magic reached out unknowingly to Emma and began to siphon the life back. It wasn’t the spell her mother used to extend her life, but she realized that through Emma, she could turn back time and heal herself.

With enough concentration, she also learned she was able to make herself younger through Emma but because Emma was immortal and unable to die, it came at a great cost to Emma’s magic, weakening her more than Regina was comfortable with.

* * *

 

** Five years later. **

 

_“I can’t believe they’re forcing us to treat that monster.”_

_“The one in room 3?”_ There’s a pause in which Emma assumes the first woman is nodding before the second continues, “ _It_ _’s our job, Helen. We can’t pick and choose who we save, that’s immoral.”_

_“He murdered that girl’s mother in front of her.”_   The woman huffs. _“If you ask me, her stabbing him is the least he deserves.”_

Listening to them, Emma starts to smile at this sudden turn of luck. She retrieves the coffees she’d made for herself and Regina, and returns to the room Henry was admitted to the night before with a few fractured ribs and a broken leg. He’d insisted they not come, delusional enough to believe Regina wouldn’t jump in the car and drive up to Boston the second she heard their son was in a motorcycle accident.

It wasn’t planned, but since they were there, Emma has every intention of taking advantage. Passing Regina her coffee, she leans down and whispers into her ear, “I found you a guinea pig.”

Regina turns to her, wide eyed and knowing. Emma understands the look, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder as she straightens. Regina needs more time but like it or not, it _is_ time. They’d put it off a year longer than they’d agreed already and if they _keep_ putting it off, Regina will need more than one life to undo it all.

“Ma?” Emma shifts her gaze from Regina to Henry. He knows. Not everything, but enough to see the look on Regina’s face and understand it just as well as she does. “Who?”

Glancing down at Regina in question, the expression that contorts her face is loud and clear. Henry will appreciate her honesty, Regina will not. Emma shakes her head, dismissing the look. Henry is 19 now and probably knows more than either of them would like to admit. It has taken him the better part of a decade, but he knows the world now, he knows how it works and how it doesn’t. He sees the shades of grey mixed in with all the white and black, and he can separate the good from the bad better than most.

“A man,” she answers, ignoring the glare and the hand that shoots to the one on Regina’s shoulder, nails digging into her skin. “According to the nurses, he was stabbed by a girl after she watched him murder her mother.”

Immediately, the grip on her hand goes slack and she glances down again in time to see Regina’s expression turn blank. She stifles another smile. Whatever life the man has remaining will soon no longer be his to do with as he pleases; Emma has judged him worthy of death, and Regina, his executioner.


End file.
